Tales from My Dusty Ovaries

Man, do I suck

2011-03-27T20:42:00.000-07:00

My life has been insane for the last year. Nothing genuinely tragic (such as a death or serious medical emergency), but enormous amounts of stress and fucked-upedness. I'm fine and my family is fine but it's been a helluva ride. Obviously I've been absent from here for nearly a year. I still compose posts in my head on a daily basis but never get off my fat ass to write them. Bloglines essentially went down the tubes and took my list of blogs with it. So I haven't even been reading much. I feel like I got knocked over the head with a frying pan, then was put on a rowboat and set adrift in the Atlantic. I am so woefully out of touch with all of you that I'm not even sure where to start to catch up. And that sucks. However, if *thinking* about you all the time counts more than making the time to actually *contact* you over the last year or to read your blogs over the last 3 months, then I'm all stocked up. I've woefully and dreadfully neglected each and every one of my IF sisters (including TOOTPU and the Braces Bunch) to the point that asking for forgiveness is laughable. But I guess I am. And I'm wondering what's new with you all.

Sickness in the midst of sickness

2010-04-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

I was sick last week. REALLY sick. I had strep throat. I will never secretly feel that my children should suck it up when they have strep throat. Because I thought I was actually going to die.

I'm not sure if it was a raging fever, the debilitating body aches, the excruciating headache, or the improbably painful throat that was the worst. It all sucked. REALLY sucked.

Anyway, at one point I realized that I was seriously sick. Not just I-feel-like-shit-I-should-take-some-Tylenol sick, but holy-fuck-I-feel-like-hot-ass sick. I dragged my haggard, feverish, miserable ass to CVS to the Minute.Clinic. As a testament to how desperate I was to seek medical attention, I took both of my kids with me.

This is a nightmare by any standards as they, for some inexplicable reason, think CVS is The Most Fun Place Ever. They get all revved up and start running up and down the aisles screeching like prehistoric birds. It's really quite embarrassing. They are fairly well-behaved for the most part but CVS makes them lose their tiny, tiny minds.

Megan shops endlessly for nail polish is ghastly shades of LIME! GREEN! and SHOCKING! PINK! and nasty glittery dark purple and whatnot. Then she shrieks and squeals with glee like she's just found a brand new Coach purse lying unattended on our front porch or something.

Liam heads straight for the sunglasses and rips every goddamn one of them off the rack to try them on. That, in and of itself, wouldn't be so bad except that he can't move on to the next pair until he seeks out someone (only a stranger will do) to show off how smokin' hot he surely must think he looks. In each and every pair.

I hate CVS.

Anyway, no one else was waiting in line at the clinic so I thought we'd be in and out of there in no time at all. In a jiffy! Toot sweet!

Not so much.

The exam itself took about 20 minutes, but most of that was spent waiting for the flu test to come back negative. The Nurse Practitioner who was helping me was plenty nice and all, but my kids had just about had enough of that little tiny room after, oh I don't know, about 3.4 minutes.

It was hellish. To begin with, Megan produces a steady, never ending, continuous, mind-numbing stream of conversation. "Am I being good? I am being good, aren't I? Will I get a treat for being so good? What will my treat be? Candy? Will I have to share it with Liam? I don't mind sharing but it might change what I would want to get for my treat. Something with a lot of pieces, you know. Maybe it won't be candy, maybe it will be a toy. If it is a toy, do I have to share it with Liam? I don't mind sharing but it might change which toy I get. What is this thing? Can I touch it? Why is she sticking that huge q-tip up your nose? It looks like it hurts, does it hurt? I hurt my toe today. Want to see it? Can I get my candy yet? Am I being good enough to get candy? Want to hear the song I learned from Ms. Betty at school? Can I get a Slurpee after dinner tonight since I'm being so good? I think I hear your phone ringing. Is your phone ringing? I'll get it for you, Mommy because I'm being really helpful. Will you tell Daddy how good I am being? When do you think we will be done in this room because I really want a treat. Can I get a new Zhu Zhu pet today? I don't want that as my treat, I'm just asking if I can have a new one. I like the pink one. I think it's name is Jilly. Mary Grace has the black one. She also has cool sneakers that light up. Can I get some sneakers that light up? Why is Liam crying? Why are you sweating? Can I help you with anything? Because I'm really helpful, you know."

I wish I was kidding, but that's what it's like all. the. time. I read an article today that called Kindergartners "chatterboxes." Some shit about how they are testing out their verbal prowess, building their vocabularies, learning to express their emotions, and all that happy shit. All I know is that we spend a lot of time lately playing The Quiet Game. It ends in the awarding of a pink Starburst candy and I don't even care that I've effectively bought her silence with sugar. I just don't care. Because my ears will start bleeding otherwise.

But I digress... so Megan is going on and on and on and on. Liam is climbing up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down on everything he can find. He's also trying to rip the glasses off my face, pull plugs out of electrical outlets, play with the NP's phone, open the door, and empty my purse while wailing about GUUUUUUUUUUUUUM! He's so freaking busy and so freaking fast that it's like all of these things are happening simultaneously. It's like he's a cartoon character who has somehow cloned himself and is capable of mischief in 5 different locations at exactly the same time. I wish I was exaggerating.

Anyway, we finally get out of that room and go back to wait for my prescriptions to be filled. (Side note: I want to marry the person who invented penicillin.) For whatever reason (because someone was HATING me that day), it takes for.fucking.ever for my prescriptions to get done. Again my children are running amok, Megan is blathering on about nail polish, and Liam craps his pants. I am a raging idiot because I, in my fevered delirium, neglected to bring any diapers or wipes. Because OF COURSE he's going to shit himself.

So I buy diapers and wipes at 400% of what I should pay for them and head off to the employee-only bathroom. Guess what they don't have in that bathroom. A changing table. So here's what we do... I wrestle Liam into a headlock, take his pants off, and gently lay them on the floor. I attempt to place his head on the pants so I can change his diaper. He decides that this is A TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE or something equally as shocking, and bucks like a horse on an LSD trip. Megan's commentary has started, "Mommy, why don't they having any place to change diapers in here? That's not very convenient, is it? Do you need some help? Because you know I'm helpful, right? Want me to hold him down? What is that smell? Is that his poop? Because wow, Mom, that smells really bad. Liam, buddy, what did you eat today? Mom, did my poop smell that bad? I hope when I have kids they don't have smelly poop like this. They should have air fresheners in here." and on and on and on. You get the point.

I actually missed half of it because Liam was screaming his fool head off and I was openly weeping. Did I forget to mention that my temperature was 101.8 at the time? I was 99 shades of miserable and these crazed little nutjobs that I stupidly brought with me are about to push me right into hysteria.

This all goes on for a long, long time since it took them almost 40 minutes to fill my prescription. In that time, Liam managed to bite through the packaging of 2 different chocolate bars and Megan somehow got her arm stuck in the cuff of the free blood pressure screening machine. We were something to see, people. Yes, we were.

I finally got them the hell out of there and out to the car. Liam was freaking because he didn't want to leave. He never wants to leave. It's CVS, for chrissakes, and he would live there if I let him. Plus he now morphs into devilspawn when it's time to get strapped into the car seat. It's like the cloth cover has been lit on fire or something, the way he thrashes and wails. I manage to break his perfect plank position in order to get his obnoxious ass into the car seat, and then get Megan strapped in. I am literally sweating, my teeth are chattering, and I'm feeling lightheaded.

I turn on the car and notice that it's 6:30 which is dinner time. Hello, McD's. My kids are thrilled. I think we are in the home stretch until we get about half a mile from CVS and Megan sweetly says from the back seat, "Oh Mommmmmmmmmmy, loooooooooooooooook." I turn around to see a huge smile across her beaming, beautiful face. I realize all might be right in the world after all. And then I notice what she's holding up for me to look at.

She has stolen a bottle of nail polish.

I shit you not. So I have to drive our asses back to the store. Unstrap everyone. Drag us back in there. Make her apologize. Find out where, in the vast ocean of the nail polish section, this stupid fucking bottle of polish goes. Try to get out of there. Liam freaks out when he realizes we are leaving. He thrashes about and hits me in the face. Twice. I can't tell if it's on purpose or not, but I make him sit in a time out anyway. On the floor. The dirty floor. In CVS.

I sat next to him and cried. Megan rubbed my back and chattered away incessantly, cooing apologies and platitudes in my ear. What a sweet little thief.

Finally we get back out to the car and I get to go through the hell that is strapping Liam in. I get McD's for the kids. We go home.

Alas, I did not die. And I feel much better now. Want to know what's insane? I've typed all of this nonsense and haven't even gotten to my point yet. Hmmmm, now where do we think that Megan might, maybe, perhaps have gotten this personality disorder of the talking, talking, talking. Huh?

The message in the title of this post (remember it, waaaaaaaaaay back up at the top) was that even as sick as I was, I still managed to find a way to act like a deranged infertile... If you've never seen a strep test up close, it's a test strip. A whole helluva lot like a pregnancy test. The idea is that you have a control line and, if the test is positive, a 2nd test line that shows up next to it. EXACTLY like a pregnancy test.

When I saw that test strip, I felt a little faint. I became desperate, praying to the Test Strip Gods that we would see a 2nd line. Now, I ask you, who in the hell WANTS to have strep throat? What person needs to see a 2nd line on a test strip so badly that they use their mindskillz to WILL a 2nd line to show up? A crazy-assed infertile, that's who.

All I can say is that I bet that lady never saw someone so enthusiastic and pleased over a positive strep test. If you thought I couldn't get any whackier, then get this... I asked her if I could take the test strip home. Luckily she said no because, really, that would have been just too much.

I'm going to choose to blame it on the fever.

And for what it's worth, I'm also going to chose to stay the hell away from CVS until my children are in high school. They can't be trusted to act like normal human beings in there. Nevermind that I was spewing step virus everywhere, visibly crying, and eventually sitting in the middle of the aisle with my son in a time out. It's because of THEM that I will never show my face at that CVS again.

How many packets of fruit snacks is too many?

2010-03-18T18:06:00.000-07:00

There are dozens and dozens of reasons why I love our nanny. I don't *love* her in any sort of inappropriate way, I just love how well we get along and how fantastic she is with my kids. I originally thought it was because our last nanny was such a soul-sucking, wretched, miserable, bitchy hag and this one seemed wonderful only by comparison. But I was wrong. She is wonderful.

She is nearly bereft of all domestic abilities -- apparently she could burn water trying to boil it -- but I don't care. We love to see how she loads the dishwasher, it's kind of like it was done by a drunk person. Who was also blindfolded. But we find it endearing.

When she folds laundry it kinda resembles origami. But we don't mind at all. Hell, someone else is collecting, sorting, washing, drying, folding, hanging and putting away my kids' laundry. Am I really obnoxious enough to complain about it? Um, nope.

Anyway, we love her. She just had her 1 year anniversary with us and we are still thrilled with her. I could go on and on about all the reasons (more than I already have? why, yes!) but let me just share with you some of the random texts she sends me throughout the day...

Liam just picked up the thermometer off the changing table and poked himself in the butt with it.
Was screaming, now sleeping. I have no idea what just went down.
I had my blinker on turning our of ur neighborhood and Megan asked me if I was texting while driving. She said that's not safe.
Liam is smashing everything in sight with the broom. Taking him to the mall.
Ur son just spit OJ all over his stomach and screamed uh oh!
Liam just yanked out a kleenex and dusted ur living room.
How many packets of fruit snacks is too many?
Just a heads up, I just caught ur son trying to scoop the fish out of the tank with a red plastic frying pan.
He's an evil genuis. He's all sweet when ur here but a few minutes ago he ran into the kitchen and threw his string cheese at me.
Putting a tiny bottle of Smirnoff in recycling. I found it in the parking lot. It was not consumed on premises. :-)
He's smelling fake flowers and going "hmmmmm"
Hope u like messy houses.

Can you see why I love her so?

Things That I Know

2010-03-08T16:33:00.001-08:00

A random assortment of things that I know to be true:

I know that you need more sleep when you do stupid shit like try to print off a coupon for Office Depot. For ink cartridges. For the printer that won't print anymore because it has no ink. ON the printer that won't print anymore. Not smart.

I know EXACTLY how this person feels in this post. EXACTLY. This post is so dead on regarding how I feel it actually spooks me a little. Except that her son sleeps through the night. And my almost 2 year old doesn't. If she would just move closer to me, we would be such BFFs that we would probably annoy people.

I know that I am shocked that it has been almost 6 months since I posted. I've composed dozens and dozens of posts in my head and it's weird to think that none of them have made it to my blog.

I know that just because you totally kick ass at Wii bowling doesn't mean you have any skillz at all at *real* bowling. Believe me.

I know that my husband is one of the greatest husbands in the world. He cleans, he does all the laundry, he can take care of all aspects of our children with little to no guidance at all, and he would never cheat on me. He is also one of the biggest assholes I've ever met. Go figure.

I know that I am so excited that these babies were born that I can't stand it. I don't even think this chick knows I exist but I have followed her story forever and am honestly moved to tears with happiness that her boys are home safely.

I know that I miss my TOOTPU friends. I don't get to enough gatherings and I don't keep in touch as I would like to. I especially want to get together with fabulous Mel and let our nearly-identically-aged children play together at the play date we've been trying to organize for months and months, but I'm too busy and somehow simultaneously too f'ing lazy to make it happen.

I know that I can't remember the address for Sunny's blog. I was too lazy to add it to my reader and now it's gone from my address bar history, so I haven't read it in at least a month. Help!

I know that it's coming up on the 2nd anniversary of when my ex-fiance killed his parents. I stopped by his Uncle's house (also my sister's neighbor, that's how we met) to let him know I was thinking about their family. We hugged and cried. That sort of stuff happens to other people, people on TV. I'm just thankful that I will NEVER EVER have to worry about bumping into him on the street. (What with the consecutive life sentences and all.)

I know that beef stew is magical. I could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I think I've made it once a week for months now. But I can't take it to work for lunch. Because I always eat it ALL by 10am. It calls to me... "Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat me!"

I know that I love my sister with every fiber of my being. Her daughters have turned into evil teenagers and they break her heart on a regular basis. It makes me want to kick their asses into next week, then hug my sister until she begs me to stop.

I know that work is killing me. Seriously. k.i.l.l.i.n.g. me. I love my job, I love all the insane amounts of responsibility I have, and I love to work hard but it's sorta out of control right now. Know when it will get better? February 2011. Aaaaaaaaack.

I know that for the past month, my typical night's sleep is from 2am - 5:30am. This is not working for me, I am falling asleep at traffic lights. Not cool at all.

I know that I miss my car. A very nice, albiet super old (87 yo) lady ran a red light in the middle of downtown Baltimore and crashed into my car. Deployed the side curtain airbags and everything. I'm fine, but my car has been in the shop for weeks and I miss it. To give you an idea of how crazed work is right now, after the accident when I finished dealing with the cops, I shoved the airbag back up into the ceiling and drove to work. I popped about half a dozen Aleve, and then, 9 hours later after I finished working, drove straight to the body shop to drop my smashed up car off.

I know that my kids are finally old enough to actually play together. Aside from the sound of a dispensing slot machine in Vegas (chingchingchingchingchingching), there is no sound that makes me happier than to hear the sweet giggling of my kids as they conspire and goof off together. Okay, I actually enjoy my kids' laughter more than slot machine noises but it's awfully close...

I know that I am so damned excited that this person is pregnant that I can't even stand myself. I actually catch myself randomly smiling during the day at the thought of it. :-)

I know that I still read blogs every single day. I suck about commenting enough, but I really do still read blogs each day and keep up with my peeps.

I know that Liam is insane. Seriously, I think he's got a screw loose. Good thing he's so freaking cute and funny that his personality will probably carry him through.

I know that I miss posting. I fully intend to post more often. Even if I have nothing useful to say. I just miss organizing my thoughts and getting them down in print (and thus out of my head).

I know that I'm crazy, demented, over-the-top excited to buy this book. She is one of my favorite bloggers and to think that I'm going to get to read an entire book full of her writing makes me giddy and a little bit dizzy with excitement!

Lastly, I know that it will be a miracle if anyone even reads this. I assume most people have removed me from their readers and/or don't bother checking anymore.

I am alive

2009-09-11T09:08:00.000-07:00

Thank you to those of you who have been checking on me. I have not expired from surgical misadventure, septic gallstones, or the complete decay of my mental abilities. I'm just lazy. And busy. Simultaneously. They seem like they'd be mutually exclusive, but I guess they aren't.

Things are good here. Kevin got a new job with a nice, big raise and lots more responsibility. Yay! I'm as fat as ever, and on the brink of a major body overhaul (via diet and exercise, I wish it were more extensive). Work is keeping me outrageously busy but that's a good thing. I'm preparing for a huge consignment sale that I help manage, I'm completing preparations for the Ministry Fair at my Church, and have started a Daisy Girl Scout troop at Megan's school. No rest for the weary (and stupid).

Megan started Kindergarten and is doing well. She loves her teachers, has a couple of friends in class, and although I know she's tired each day, she's weathering it fairly well. She had TWO birthday parties this year which were big fun but lots of work. I'll post some pictures of the tea party we did for her school friends as well as the kick ass Tinkerbell cake that my best friend helped me make for her family party. I still can't believe Megan is 5 years old, it's like I was pregnant with her yesterday!

She spends oodles of time in trouble for manhandling Liam. If it were an Olympic sport, suffice it to say that she'd medal in "Beating Up on Your Brother." We've tried many variations of punishments and reward systems, and have enjoyed some success with each. Wish us luck, this is going to be a long road of sibling jealousy, we can see it now.

She is a beautiful little girl with a giant heart. Her sandy blonde curls are completely gone, and have been replaced by thick, wavy brown hair. She hasn't lost any teeth yet so she's still got that adorable little-tooth smile that can light up a room.

She got her ears pierced (didn't even flinch!), loves to wear her black high heeled boots, and desires faaaaaaar more bling than I ever have or ever will. We started letting her watch Hannah.Montana and now she thinks she's a teenage rockstar. Please shoot me.

She isn't eating much anymore, but is still shooting up like a reed. She really gives a shit about what she wears (which is a real drag), and won't wear bows in her hair except on rare occasions. [sniff, sniff] She is determined to grow her hair down to her feet, but if she doesn't stop giving me shit every time I try to brush that rats nest, then I'm chopping it all off. And she knows I'm not kidding, so these struggles are starting to dissipate.

Liam ... well, Liam is best described as a menace. Seriously, this boy wears me out. If he can touch it, break it, taste it, or carry it around, he will. I joke that we should have named him Chuck. Hand him something, and his initial reaction is to throw it. Hard. Far. Then run (walking is apparently for sissies) over to it and shove it in his mouth. After both of these activites are completed, then -- and only then -- can he take a moment to actually inspect it and see what he's got his hands on. Of course, after this assessment, his next step is typically to just throw it or bite it again anyway.

He is a study in constant motion and he is hilarious. He's finding his voice (Lord help us, we've already got a house full of talkers), and his temper as well. Awesome. I need to post a video of him dancing because you've never seen something so funny and cute in all your days. Let's just say he channels a bizarre mixture of Elvis, Elaine from Seinfeld, and John Travolta. Just take a moment to picture that. It's good stuff. One of his favorite channels to dance to is the Weather Channel. No lie.

He's got some new teeth, has finally grown hair, and has taken the act of saying "Hi" to a new, agressive level... "hi. hi. Hi. Hi. HI. HI!!!!" Heaven help you if you don't respond in kind. He'll practically come over and bitch slap you.

He's sleeping well (finally!), growing like a weed, and eating us out of house and home. He rarely sits still but when he does, it is to give an extended and wonderful hug typically followed by a dramatic kiss complete with the "mmmmmwa!" sound. Then he's off.

For a taste of what we are working with on a daily basis, let me tell you what he's like in the shower. First, he prefers the shower to the bath because he loves to stand under the streaming water and blow bubbles with his mouth. When he's done with that, he'll tear all of the shampoo bottles off the shelves and throw them around. Then he'll pry off the drain cover, shove his fat little hand down the nasty pipe, and will LICK the underside of the drain cover. Complete with that pinkish water mold stuff. Yes, it IS every bit as horrifying and revolting as it sounds. He's so fast and so wiley that he accomplished that little feat while I was washing the conditioner out of my hair yesterday. I think I screamed so loud that the neighbors could hear me.

I have another post brewing about how reality measures up to the fantasy of completing our family building activities. I'm just struggling with the words to express my thoughts.

In the meantime, I still read your blogs. Every single day. I just don't comment much and obviously don't post for shit. Please forgive me! I'm celebrating your joys and triumphs. I'm also mourning your disappointments and losses. I promise, I really am.

Earflaps, Hubcaps and Mousetraps

2009-08-03T05:36:00.000-07:00

I wrote a poem. I've written poems before -- anyone remember 'Twas the Night Before Transfer?. I've also rewritten classic stories such as Snow White. Clearly, I shouldn't quit my day job.

What is this new poem about? The surgeon who removed my gallbladder. Actually, it's as much about the whole adventure as it is about any particular surgeon. But it still cracked me up anyway.

----------------------------------------------------
Ode to the Minimally Invasive Surgeon

How do I feel about my defective gallbladder?
My friends, it was worse than wrestling a death adder
It made me unhappy, not just mad, but much sadder
And when it was gone, I have never been gladder

Well, we ripped the bitch out, it was heaved, tossed, evicted
The sweet relief that I felt was even more than predicted
Oh the pain that the little bastard inflicted
Had me straight on the road to being pain-drug addicted

So, you ask, oh Leah, what could really be worse?
What could be so bad that you think it's a curse?
What would make you wish you were carted off in a hearse?
What could make you feel pain so bad it's perverse?

It's a stone! A gallstone! Stuck in your bile duct
I am here to tell you that WOW how it sucked
I was in so much pain that I bucked and I clucked
I writhed and I moaned, I even upchucked

So, my friends, if you feel that your insides are urgin'
If you find yourself having meals then immediately purgin'
Don't be a wuss, unless you're a surgery virgin
Run! Don't walk! To your nice, friendly surgeon!

He's capable of so much, many things he can fix
He'll do what you need, even remove your appendix
He's got all kinds of talents in his big bag of tricks
With a flick of his scalpel, he'll provide a quick fix!

What's your problem? A hernia? A rectal prolapse?
Well, pull yourself up by those proverbial bootstraps
No need for earflaps, hubcaps or mousetraps
Go see your nice surgeon, he can help you perhaps

What's got you down? A bout of ulcerative colitis?
That's far more painful than having just sinusitis
It even sucks more than enduring gastritis
When your surgeon is done, you will feel like King Midas!

He'll fix you up right with his surgery skills
He'll save you from living on narcotic pills
No longer you'll need endure the battle of wills
He'll release you from all those pain-addled dunghills

Yes, a Minimally Invasive Surgeon is your friend, there's no doubt
He'll make you want to get on a rooftop and shout
You can eat what you want! No need to live without!
And that is the end of this tale, there's no doubt.
----------------------------------------------------

I worked fairly hard to use the phrase "catastrophic surgical misadventure" but it just didn't have that Seuss-like cadence or flow.

The good news is that I am feeling 100%. I'm considering writing a little ditty about my poop since it's so weird these days, and will surely share it here first. :-)

Happy Liver, Sad Panky

2009-07-18T20:31:00.000-07:00

The ERCP went fine yesterday. The urine sample I provided before the procedure was interesting. It was sort of a copper color. The GI doctor just looked at it and said, "Um, yeah. Your liver isn't very happy." I guess it's happy now. My pee is a normal shade of yellow, and my eyes aren't. So that's good news.

Today's adventure? Post-ERCP pancreatitis. I've given my pancreas (and it's friend The Pancreatic Duct) a new nickname: Panky. Panky had better shape up or it will meet the same fate as Mr. Gallbladder*.

If it weren't for My Reality, I would be thinking I was a raving, hypochondriac, unlucky nutjob. Fortunately for me and unfortunately for her, she's already traveled this road and has held my hand along the way.

I'll take this and any other pain (including labor pain!) over that gallstone-in-the-bile-duct pain. Today's issue is accompanied by endurable pain, endurable nausea and strict orders not to eat or drink anything. Good times. At least my weigh in on Tuesday should be a good one...

Thanks to everyone who has been checking on me!

* Not really, because I'm not sure you can just rip your pancreas out. Seems to me that there might be some nasty complications as a result.

Catastrophic Surgical Misadventure

2009-07-16T12:44:00.000-07:00

Well, we are assuming that it's not that. But I liked the sound of it so much that I wrote it down immediately when my surgeon said it.

Here I am, live blogging from the bed in room #21 of the Emergency Department. You'd think I was developing some sort of crush on the surgeon that yanked my gallbladder out -- given that I tortured myself with steri strips in order to talk to him again, and now camped out in the ED fresh off a consult with him.

Yesterday afternoon my stomach/abdomen started hurting. I am PMSing and had just crammed a quarter of a bag of potato chips down my gullet, so I figured that was the problem. But it kept hurting all evening, which sucked. I took one of my 800mg Ibuprofens and was able to at least get to sleep.

When I woke up, it still hurt but not too badly. I still wasn't going to chance eating anything. By lunchtime, I was starving. To death. So I got a salad, and man was it good. Twenty minutes later, all hell broke loose.

The pain quickly went from "ow, that kinda hurts" to "holyfuckingshitohmygodsweetmamahelpme" accompanied with literally writhing around on the floor (the dirty, nasty carpeted floor of my office), sweating and moaning. It lasted about 10 minutes -- basically an eternity -- and then was gone. Poof! Like nothing ever happened. Except that I was completely soaked in sweat, shaking, panting, and chalk white.

My co-workers had already procured a wheelchair to take me to the ED (perk of working in a hospital), but I tried to tell them that I was okay now. Which I was. Only it didn't last long. A few minutes later, it started all over again. Gawd, it's awful pain.

Fast forward to now. I am lying on a bed, getting Dilaudid in an IV drip. I've just had my 4th cup of apple juice with contrast dye in it as preparation for the CT scan I've got in 20 minutes. Good times.

The good news is that my bloodwork just got back and since my liver enzymes are jacked up, it just about confirms what my surgeon suspected which is a stone in the bile duct. It snuck in there before they got my gallbladder out and has been just hanging around, waiting to torture me.

So I'll get the CT scan in a bit, it will show that nothing else major is wrong, and I'll have an endoscopy tomorrow to remove the stone. I moaned and pissed and whined about needed to go home and see my kids, so they are actually releasing me (pending good CT scan results) with instructions to come back at 9:30 tomorrow morning for the endoscopy.

I am SO over myself and these medical woes. But at least I got another idea for my ficticious band names list: Catastrophic Surgical Misadventure. Rock on! Get it? Rock... stone... in my bile duct... Okay, that's not funny. Give me a break, I'm high on pain meds right now, okay?

So freaking funny

2009-07-09T07:28:00.000-07:00

I have been a slacker on my daily posting. I'm sorry! I have lots to say, and will catch up. In the meantime, check out this outrageously hilarious video. You've probably all seen it already, but I can't stop laughing and gasping at technology/graphics today.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PHnRIn74Ag&NR=1

P.S. - How do I embed a youtube video with blogger?

10 Things that Suck About Infertility

2009-07-06T10:55:00.000-07:00

I initially thought about this topic and planned for it to be funny. I know there’s nothing funny about IF, but I still had hopes of it being lighthearted. Then I started jotting down my thoughts. And they weren’t funny at all. So I apologize for the somewhat morose tone of many of these, but it is what it is. They are also very specific to my IF journey, but I have to imagine you can relate to many of them anyway.

Here, my friends, are the top 10 things (in no particular order) that I think suck about infertility.

1) The Fear

Will this all just end up being a waste of time? Will it be a waste of money? Will it ruin my marriage? Will sex ever be fun again? Will I be childless? Will my husband leave me for someone who can give him children? What will happen at my monitoring appointment today? What is my E2? Will I sleep through the alarm and miss the exact time for my trigger shot? Will I ovulate before they get in there to retrieve the eggs? Will any eggs be mature? Will any eggs fertilize? Will any eggs make it through the first night? The second night? Will I POAS and see stark white? Will I always be angry – at fertiles, at the IF Gods, at myself? Will we be bankrupt, with nothing to show for it? What are other people saying about us? Will I ever be the one in the maternity clothes? Will I ever be able to repair the friendships that I’ve neglected? Will I ever feel good about myself again?

2) The Self-Loathing

I’m broken. I’m barren. I’m weak. I’m defective. I’m pathetic. I’m an embryo killer. I’m a baby killer. I have lazy ovaries. My uterus is useless. God must know I’m going to be a terrible mother and that’s why I’m infertile. I’m fat thanks to the IF weight gain. I’m not a real woman. I’m a whiner, why can’t I stop bitching about not having a baby? I’m sick of hearing my own self complain. I’m ugly on the inside – angry and jealous. I want everyone to pity me, yet I can’t stand the idea of being pitied. Basically, I just suck in every way.

3) The Money

I refuse to add up how much we’ve spent. I can’t stomach it. There are so many different places that we’ve hemmoraged cash, I’m not sure I could even remember them all… a basal body temperature thermometer, OPKs, REs, HSGs, acupuncture, copays, drugs, syringes, needles, suppositories, HPTs, fertility massages, BCPs, acupuncture, visualization CDs, books, herbal supplements, D&Cs, fertility yoga DVDs, bracelets. The list goes on and on. Other people get knocked up for free. They don’t spend tens of thousands of dollars trying to make a baby. They spend it on stuff like vacations and clothes and flower gardens and beach houses. Damn them.

4) The Loss of Control

I don’t get to decide when, or where, or how we make a baby. It’s decided for me, in the form a protocol from the RE. I never know what to expect when I show up for daily monitoring – I’ve taken my meds, I’ve visualized my follicles growing and my lining thickening, I’ve drowned myself in positive thoughts – but will it be enough? I can’t enjoy carefree planning with trips or vacations or social activities, these things are dictated by monitoring appointments and trigger shots and inseminations and egg retrievals and transfers. I cannot will this to happen. I can’t try really, really hard or practice or take a fancy shortcut to make this happen. I’ve worked my whole life to make good things happen, to try harder than the other people, so that I could get what I wanted. Infertility doesn’t work that way, and that sucks.

5) The Waiting

Waiting to see that elusive 2nd line on an OPK. Waiting two long weeks to see if that worked. Waiting the requisite amount of time (full of failures at home) to consult an RE. Waiting to finally call, but then not getting an appointment for 6 more weeks. Waiting for your consult. Waiting for your bloodwork results. Waiting for your HSG to be scheduled. Waiting for your protocol to be developed. Waiting for your cycle to start. Waiting for your meds to arrive. Waiting for your name to be called so you can get a camera shoved up your ladybits. Waiting for your E2 results. Waiting for the appointed trigger shot time. Waiting for the anesthesiologist to knock you out at the retrieval. Waiting to hear how many eggs they got. Waiting for the fertilization reports. Waiting for your transfer time. Waiting to pee after the transfer. Waiting to POAS. Waiting to see if a line appears. Waiting for your beta. Waiting to see if your beta doubles. Waiting for your sonogram. Waiting to miscarry. Waiting for your beta to drop to 0 so you can get on this God-awful rollercoaster and do it all over again. Waiting to tell people The Good News until you are sure it’s going to be okay, and then having it all turn to shit anyway. Waiting to see if you will ever, ever have a baby to bring home. Waiting to use that perfect name you picked out. Waiting to pull out that cute onesie that you stupidly bought during the first month of trying when you were sure it would be so easy.

6) The Exhaustion

I’m tired of trying to make a baby. I’m tired of being angry. I’m tired of being pathetic. I’m tired of the waiting, the wishing, the hoping, the crushing disappointment, the heartbreak. I’m tired of crying at baby showers. I’m tired of sobbing after pregnancy announcements. I’m tired of doing the mental math to figure out how old my babies would be if I hadn’t miscarried. I’m tired of realizing that people who started trying after us now have 3 kids. I’m tired of waking up at 6am to get poked and prodded and have the blood sucked out of me. I’m tired of feeling like a bloated, drugged whale. I’m tired of waiting to make plans just in case. I’m tired of the lack of answers. I’m tired of other people’s optimism. I’m tired of the stupid shit people say to make you feel better. I’m just so, so tired – mentally and physically.

7) The Anger

I’m angry at my fertile friends. I’m angry at pregnant strangers. I’m angry at my body. I’m angry at my RE for not being a miracle worker. I’m angry at anyone who conceives an oops baby*. I’m angry at other people’s stupidity. I’m angry at the unfairness of it all. I’m angry about the wasted money. I’m angry about the delayed plans. I don’t care if God does know what’s best, I just wish it didn’t have to mean I’d have to struggle or have to miscarry. I’m angry at myself for letting this rule my life. I’m angry at myself for being such a huge failure.

8) The Pain

Without a doubt, it’s the emotional pain that hurts the most. The pain in my heart has left scars that are so big and so deep, not even a houseful of kids could take it away. But the physical pain can’t be denied either. It hurts to get a needle shoved in your arm day after day after day. The stim shots hurt. The trigger shot hurts. The PIO hurts, and it just keeps on giving since you have to do it for weeks on end. Clomid and Lupron and the rest of those vile, nasty devil drugs give me painful headaches. The HSG hurts, the dildo cam hurts, retrieval hurts, transfer hurts, D&Cs hurt. Watching your husband cry hurts. Watching your friends feel helpless hurts. Watching your sister live through the all too familiar angst of IF or miscarriage hurts. Seeing the disappointment on your Mom’s face hurts. Getting the “I’m so sorry” comments on your blog hurt (even though they aren’t supposed to). Crying until your eyes swell shut hurts. Realizing that everyone else at work knows your co-worker is pregnant except you (because they are too afraid to tell you) hurts. Hating yourself hurts.

9) The Loss of Dignity / Privacy

Sex isn’t between you and your husband anymore. It involves an entire medical team and that sucks. I can’t count how many different people have seen and/or shoved their hands and/or medical equipment up my private parts. I’ve been told specifically when to have sex with my husband. I have to sit in the waiting room while my husband jerks off into a cup. I have to take time off work (and provide an explanation) for monitoring, retrievals, transfers, and whatnot. As you are sitting in the RE’s waiting room for the first time, you are mortified because you might as well be wearing a sandwich board that reads, “WE HAVE UNPRODUCTIVE SEX. WE ARE BROKEN AND DEFECTIVE AND CAN’T MAKE BABIES.” Nevermind that everyone else in that room is in exactly the same boat as you, it doesn’t matter. You are sure you’re the biggest losers in the building. You have to pretend like it’s okay when you have no great answer for the incessant, “So, when are you two going to have some kids?” question. Your choices are to divulge all the personal details about your failed babymaking sessions or just grin and bear the pain silently. Maybe the only thing worse than the when-are-you-going-to-have-kids question is the one that occurs after you finally spill the beans about your infertility. That’s the “So, what’s wrong with you?” question. ‘Nuff said.

10) The Wondering

Did I cause this? Did I do too many drugs in high school? Did I lay my cell phone in my lap too many times and fry my ovaries? Am I eating too many cold foods? Did I stand too close to the microwave? Was it that glass of wine? Was it the fish? Was it my childhood vaccinations? Was it a drug my Mom took during her pregnancy? Will I ever get pregnant? What will it feel like? Will I miscarry? Will I have a healthy baby? Will my IF friends hate me when I get pregnant? Will a baby fill this gaping hole in my heart? Will my husband and I be able to withstand the financial and emotional war that we’ve been in for so many years? When will the pain, fear and loathing end? Ever?

I’m sure there are dozens more things that suck about it all. We weren’t dealing with MF issues. Although we were on the doorstep, we didn’t embark on the donor egg path. We didn’t get put through the adoption wringer. There are so many other facets to someone’s IF journey that I don’t even begin to touch on. But they all suck.

In another post at some point, I’ll tout the joys of The Silver Lining. Those joys aren’t quite as numerous as the shitty things, but there is actually some good to come out of the journey we’ve taken and it deserves to be explored. That’s another post for another day…

* - About this oops baby anger... it doesn't apply to everyone. There are many of you (and you know who you are -- Farah, Artblog, Mrs. LaLa, S, BuggsMomma) that I am thrilled for. Basically all IFs are excluded from this one. Just wanted to be clear...

Gee, sorry about that, Lorelei

2009-07-05T18:38:00.001-07:00

Okay, another change to the posting schedule. I don't have my shit together to finish the Simple Pleasures post that was supposed to be for today. Therefore, a cop-out. The "Leah understands" meme:

Leah understands the frustration of women who would rather scrub floors than shop for clothes.
What? No, no, I really don't. I'm not all that wild about shopping but I would DEFINITELY prefer it to scrubbing floors. Um, hello?

Leah understands God-given talents are different for everyone .
Yes, and I'm still waiting to see just what mine are!

Leah understands the needs of the working class and works hard to find people the right house at the right price.
No, I don't. Unless they want to buy my house, I don't give a rat's ass what they need.

Leah understands the desires of potential buyers and can help transform a home into an attractive space for potential buyers.
What's with all the real estate agents named Leah?

Leah understands the value of quality customer service .
Yes, I do. Especially when *I* am the customer.

Leah understands the need for education, instruction, entertainment and options.
Especially the part about entertainment.

Leah understands suddenly that the knife is a thing deep inside Lorelei.
Weird.

Leah understands the Los Angeles market, as well as the intricacies involved with relocating and buying a home.
I've never been to LA, and never plan to. But clearly my name suggests that I should have gone into real estate, eh?

Leah understands that immunity only applies to the competition and not elsewhere.
Screw the competition, I want immunity. Wait, I want SERENITY. NOW!

Leah understands that this loan is for the weekend only.
Those are some shitty payment terms, remind me not to borrow from you again, jerkoff.

Leah understands the glass and the torch.
Both are very important when heading off to a date with an ogre.

Leah understands the importance of lifestyle change.
Especially in your 20s.

Leah understands that women's subordination to men is, under most circumstances, a fact of life.
Are you fucking kidding me?

Leah understands people go through many obstacles in life which may bring some to the feelings of helplessness.
Um, hello infertility!

Leah understands that, and works really hard to find jeans that are flattering for everyone that comes in her store.
I own 1 pair of jeans because I have a figure like a fat 14 year old boy, so I don't recommend taking any jean fashion advice from me at all.

Leah understands how lucky she is to have sole access to this fine horse.
Ah yes, Kevin loves it when I refer to him as This Fine Horse. Although he usually perfers The Stallion.

Leah understands that events are more than just cheese & cracker platters with streamers.
Yes, they are opportunities for uncomfortable clothing and mind-numbing conversation. Good times!

Leah understands to some extent what the hippies were about back then but mostly she just thinks they look really cool.
No, I actually don't. I'm more the Pottery.Barn type, not the Hippie type.

Leah understands she has multiple identities, each of them important.
Multiple personalities? No doubt.

Leah understands the special needs of the dancing community.
Ha! Have you seen Elaine dance on Seinfeld? That's the type of dancing community where I'd fit in.

Leah understands only too well, not everything always goes to plan.
You can say that again. About 1,001 times.

If you haven't done it (which nearly everyone in the blogsphere has because I'm 729 years late to this particular meme), try it out. Google your name with understands.

Have fun!

Show and Tell

2009-07-04T20:32:00.000-07:00

My 15 year old niece had arthroscopic knee surgery on the same day that I had my gallbladder removed. On one of her first outings after the surgery, they came over to our house so we could compare battle wounds. Because she's 15, and a great kid, I wanted to give her something to brighten her day. I made a candy bouquet.

I saw a couple of them online, but couldn't find one I liked that would deliver in this area. So I made my own. And here it is:

If you look closely, you'll see 18 different kinds of candy nestled in there. Yum!

Lastly, here is the happy recipient:

BTW, that's a cell phone shoved into the top of her ace bandage. I think that's hilarious!

Book Review: The Double Daring Book for Girls

2009-07-04T19:07:00.001-07:00

I love this book. Seriously. I loved the first book, and I love this one just as much. Maybe more. These wildly talented ladies have written a slew of books. All of them are great, but my favorites are the two Daring Books for Girls.

How can you not like a book that tells you how to dye your hair with Kool-Aid, how to make a lava lamp, how to perform a Japanese Tea Ceremony, what the meaning of courage is, how to catch a fish, how to run a magazine, how to be a private eye, how to become President of the United States, all about the Underground Railroad, how to dance the Cotton-Eyed Joe, how to shoot pool, how to say no (and how to say yes), and -- for pete's sake -- how to run away and join the circus. And that's less than 10% of the topics in the book. The information in here is terribly important, it is positively invaluable lore and instruction. I'm not kidding. Go buy one. Before you even read the rest of this review, just go buy one.

I challenge anyone to pick up this book and tell me that they made it through reading the Table of Contents without smiling, reminiscing, and also being intrigued. It's a seemingly random collection of really neat stuff that you find you are thrilled someone had the time, energy and brains to actually document. It's the stuff that's told around the campfires, discussed over dinner tables, and taught over sidewalk chalk in the driveway.

I tried to decide which was my favorite topic in the book. I narrowed it down to two of them, but it's a little like cheating since both of them are actually collections of things. One of them is "Practical Life" (pg. 253). It's subtopics are: sew a hem, sew on a button, sharpen dull scissors, plunge a toilet, stop an overflowing toilet, unseal a sealed envelope, put out a kitchen fire, fix a clogged drain, hang a picture, and get ink off your skin. The other topic is "Miscellanea" (pg. 273), and it's subtopics are: popcorn on the stove, the five longest rivers in the world, the dance moves to the YMCA song, homespun wisdom for stopping the hiccups, hang a spoon on your nose, make a wineglass sing, tin-can telephones, read a topo map and compass, whistle through a blade of grass, hide a treasure in a book, and the words to "Auld Lang Syne". Now tell me you aren't grinning, and nodding your head while you think, "Yeah, yeah!" People, just go buy this book.

When I agreed to write this review, I was told that I'd need to pick one of the activities and then blog about it. The only problem with that was that I couldn't decide which one to do! Luckily, Megan's age (4, going on 5) eliminated a few of them since she can't be trusted yet with paint (How to Paint a Room, pg. 201), hot wax (Paper Cup Candles, pg. 26 and Batik, pg. 99), wire cutters (Electric Buzzer Game, pg. 174) , concrete (Stepping Stones, pg. 189), a saw (How to Build a Raft, pg. 207), and knives (Whittling, pg. 240).

Megan and I actually enjoyed 5 different activies over the course of 3 days, but we decided to document one in particular for this review. It was in the "Fun Things to Do with Paper" chapter, item #5. Marbled Paper. Essentially you squirt shaving cream onto a cookie sheet, smooth it out, sprinkle paint on top, swirl the paint around, lay paper down on top, scrape off the paper, and let it dry. It was basically that easy, and we really had a blast! Here are some more specifics...

These are the ingredients we used:

- white paper
- a piece of cardboard for scraping
- shaving cream (foam, not gel)
- paint
- 2 crappy old cookie sheets
- a plastic fork
- a table covered in wax paper
- straws (not pictured)
- a smoothing tool (not pictured)

First, we squirted shaving cream on the cookie sheets and smoothed it out with our hands.

Without a doubt, Megan's favorite part of this activity was playing around with the shaving cream. In fact, as you'll see in later pictures, it all sort of degenerated into just finger painting with shaving cream by the end. But we still had a blast.

Then we used a smoothing tool (which is a fancy name for my thing-a-ma-bobber that scrapes off stonewear) and made the surface of the shaving cream as smooth as possible.

Next, Megan took paint (she initially used pink, purple, and red) and dabbed it on the shaving cream. We used regular ol' drinking straws to get the paint out of the bottles and sort of dropped it on the surface of the cream. Then she took the plastic fork and swirled the paint around to make designs.

When she was done swirling, we put a piece of white paper down on the surface and smoothed it out as we lightly pressed it into the paint/shaving cream. Then we carefully picked the paper up, scraped off the excess shaving cream, and viola!

We were suprised at how exact a translation there was between the pattern in the shaving cream and how it transferred to the paper. I was thinking it would be a little more abstract, but it wasn't. It was almost like putting it into a copy machine.

Next, Megan added a few more colors to her existing shaving cream (green, brown, and yellow).

After that, she continued to mix up the shaving cream until it was a discolored, semi-disgusting mess. Again, it translated directly onto the paper as a bit of a train wreck. But she loved it.

Here are her finished products:

Then, while she painted every body part she had access to with shaving cream, I started on my cookie sheet. I went for a nice, calming, ocean color theme (green and blue). I tried to get all subtle with the first pass:

And here's the result. Booooooooring!

So then I added more green, more blue, another color blue, and some purple:

Which produced a lovely piece of paper (if I do say so myself):

I mixed up the shaving cream a little more, but didn't add any paint:

And I got something in the middle of boring and cool. Here are my finished products:

Then it was time to play! Here she's scraping extra shaving cream off a piece of paper for fun:

And now we're just getting messy...

When it was all over, here is the mess that was left:

Not bad at all to clean up, and tons of fun.

We cut up our favorite parts of the paper, laminated them, and have turned them into bookmarks. Horray for Christmas and Mother's Day presents for the Grandparents!

Here's a snippet of the bookmark I kept for myself:

It really was incredibly easy and made some neato paper. I even tried what the book suggested and ran the pieces of paper under water, just to test the theory that the color wouldn't run. And it didn't! So it truly transferred the paint into the fiber of the paper I guess (as opposed to regular paint just resting on top).

Now, I am supposed to challenge you guys to try it out. If you are game, check it out. Let me know if you need more information about how to do it. Should you accept this challenge, tell me and I'll post a link to your blog.

Oh, and by the way... GO BUY THIS BOOK! You will love it.

Coming Soon!

2009-07-04T07:26:00.000-07:00

I've got my review of The Double Daring Book for Girls all ready to go. But I can't get the %#^&* camera to cooperate. We got a new camera. Need I say more? Actually, we got a new camera that came with fabulous directions. Then Liam snatched the directions (presumably to take off into a corner and chew/drool on them) and we haven't seen them since.

Anyway, I'm fairly certain that I need a cable which seems to be buried under the pile of CRAP in our office (ggggrrrrrrrrrrrr), and as soon as I find it, you will get the review with some fabulouso pictures of the project that Megan and I did.

BTW, I also plan to do my regularly scheduled post for today. So how about THAT, party people? I'm talkin' THREE posts in one day. Madness, I tell you. Madness.

E's Interview Questions - Part 1

2009-07-02T17:02:00.000-07:00

About 638 years aso, E was interviewed. Then she asked if anyone wanted to be interviewed, and I said, "Yes! I do!" Apparently what I really meant was, "Yes, please take the time to think up interview questions, then send them to me so that I can rudely ignore them for many months! Whee!!" I am an ass. But that's for a different post.

Anyway, the interview had 6 questions and since I'm subjecting you all to my daily posting madness, I've decided to stretch the answers out over multiple posts. So, without further adeu, here is question #1:

1) If you could live anywhere in the world besides where you live now, where would it be and why? What would your house be like there?

Assuming that the economy and cost of living weren't a factor, I would live on Kauai in Hawaii. It is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. Our house would be medium-sized and would sit on a hill with a gorgeous view. There would be a nice, big yard carved out for the kids to play in. We'd have a pool with a waterfall. The entire back of the house (that faced the gorgeous view) would be made entirely of sliding glass panels. That way we could open them up (by sliding them into pockets in the wall) and enjoy the fresh Hawaiian breeze whenever we wanted. We'd have an outside shower, an outside family room, and a mack-daddy outdoor kitchen on our mack-daddy patio.

If not Kauai, I'd also settle for St. John, USVI. All the same house desires apply.

If not Hawaii or the Virgin Islands, then I'd pick San Francisco. I had a magical trip there years ago that could never be replicated, but I could come damn close if I moved there. Unfortunately, I have an irrational fear that all of California is going to crack off into the ocean and sink so I can't live there. No disrespect to my lovely friends who live in CA, and trust me that I completely understand why someone would run screaming from the Northeast corner of the US as well. :-)

If reality needs to be considered, then the answer is probably Cary, NC. Neither Kevin nor I have ever lived there, but we both really want to. If the housing market will ever pick back up, we'd consider the move. But how could I leave my TOOTPU ladies? (The only acceptable solution will be if I move close to JJ, that would help the ensuing depression.)

How about you? Where would you live and why?

P.S. - For anyone as anal as me, you might notice that today's post was supposed to be a book review. But the project that Megan and I tried to accomplish from the book was thwarted by a very short, drooling, snot fountain who trashed everything that he could get his hands on today. So we had to abandon the project until tomorrow when Kevin can entertain said destructo-boy while Megan and I undertake the project again.

This is the picture...

2009-07-01T17:30:00.000-07:00

...I've been dreaming of taking since we started talking about having children. The one of my husband and 2 kids at the beach.

(I know it's supposed to be "wordless" Wednesday, but I don't think I'm capable of being wordless. Sorry!)

31 days of love, sweat and typing

2009-06-30T12:06:00.000-07:00

You're never going to believe it. I'm so dedicated about posting every day that I've made up a freaking schedule. A SCHEDULE OF POSTS, PEOPLE. That's a lot of pressure. I don't know if I can do it. But I'll try. [insert dramatic wiping of brow here]

In medically-related news, I am doing great. I worked for 5 hours yesterday and will work my full 9 hours today. Today is the first day that I'm simultaneously itch-free, pain-free, and drug-free. Go me! Let's just say that the allergic nastiness got muuuuuuuuuuuch worse before it got better (okay, it hasn't actually gotten better looking yet, but I assume it will). I took more pictures but I'll only post them if I run out of better shit to show you on a Show and Tell Day.

Because my children won't be one-upped by my medical woes (or each other), Liam is now scheduled for ear tubes. Megan's surgery went well, so we're hoping that Liam's is just as easy. Poor guy. It's scheduled for July 27th, keep your fingers crossed. Any bets on when Kevin will be needing some random surgery?

Now, on to the posting schedule...
July 1 - Wordless Wednesday
July 2 - Double Daring Book for Girls book review
July 3 - E's interview questions, Part 1
July 4 - Show and Tell
July 5 - Simple Pleasures
July 6 - Perfect Moment Monday
July 7 - Honest Scrap tag from Jendeis
July 8 - Wordless Wednesday
July 9 - E's interview questions, Part 2
July 10 - "Leah understands..." meme
July 11 - Show and Tell
July 12 - Navigating the Land of IF book review
July 13 - Perfect Moment Monday
July 14 - E's interview questions, Part 3
July 15 - Wordless Wednesday
July 16 - Bedtime in the Good Ol' Days
July 17 - Top 10 things that suck about infertility
July 18 - Show and Tell
July 19 - Confessions of a BPF addict
July 20 - Perfect Moment Monday
July 21 - E's interview questions, Part 4
July 22 - Wordless Wednesday
July 23 - My not-so-secret obsession
July 24 - Oh, that's great!
July 25 - Show and Tell
July 26 - E's interview questions, Part 5
July 27 - Perfect Moment Monday
July 28 - The Cool List for 5 year olds
July 29 - Wordless Wednesday
July 30 - Some random quiz result from emode
July 31 - E's interview questions, Part 6

I'll do my best not to disappoint and slack and whatnot! I hope you guys don't get tired of me droning on and on all month long. :-)

I am one itchy bitchy

2009-06-26T16:55:00.000-07:00

I'm alive, and doing well. Thank you to everyone who has checked in on me. :-)

The surgery went fine. When I woke up, I was in much more pain than I expected. After 2 hits of morphine and a couple of percocet, I was at least able to converse without gritting my teeth, clawing the bedrails, and whimpering.

I stayed on a steady, every 6 hour diet of 800mg ibuprofen and percocet until today. As of today, I went down to just the ibuprofen and since I slept right through my midday dose, I've just had it at 6am and 6pm. So far, so good. I definitely feel a little more sore today without the "good" drugs, but it's not bad at all.

Know what is bad? Forgetting that you are WILDLY allergic to steri strips. Ugh. After my last c-section, I had a horrible reaction and ended up with a near-full body rash before we figured out that's what was going on. This time I did remember -- as I was laying in recovery. Um, that's a little too late.

It took about a week for the rashes to blister up nice and itchy last time, so I figured I would be fine. But apparently it gets worse each time you use them, so this round hit me much earlier. By yesterday, the itching completely eclipsed the pain and it nearly drove me off the deep end.

After a consult with the surgeon (via phone) today, we decided to just take the steri strips off and use band aids. The incisions are barely closed, so it's sort of scary to be cruising around with nothing really holding them together, but when the alternative is to have a thick, blistering, insanity-producing rash instead, I'll risk it.

I took 2 benadryl today around lunchtime and practically lapsed into a coma for 3 hours. The nap was great, and blissfully itch-free. But wow, I guess I can't snarf 2 of those and hope to function. At all.

LJ asked me to post some incision pictures for Show and Tell. I'll do that, but in the meantime, here is what you look like when you're allergic to steri strips. Good times.

First, a diagram of where the 4 incisions are. One near my sternum in the middle, one near the edge of my ribcage toward the right edge, one on my right side a couple of inches above my hip, and one inside my belly button.

Now, as I said, around each incision site is angry and blistered where the steri strips where. This is a shot of the one near my sternum and the one midway down my torso. Gee, think you can figure out *exactly* where those little bastard steri strips were attached?

Here's a shot of the middle one, and the one that's sort of above my hip:

I can't get a clear picture of the madness going on inside my belly button, but you get the gist from this fuzzy, gross picture:

And, lastely, here is a decent closeup so you can really appreciate the individual blisters that comprise the affected areas. Fun, no?

It's 9:30 and I can hear the benadryl calling my name. "Leeeeeee-uh, Leeeeee-uh..." Oh, I'm comin' baby, I'm a-comin'.

Way, way, way TMI

2009-06-22T20:28:00.000-07:00

On this, The Eve of my Surgery, I'm feeling fine. As long as I eat only lettuce and air. What follows for the rest of this post is a lot of talk about poop and whatnot so if you aren't into that sort of thing, then go ahead and click over to TLC so you can read that -- shocker! -- Jon.and.Kate are getting divorced. Gasp! Whoda thunk? Anyway...

Since discovering my Gallbladder Issues, I've had to severely restrict my dietary intake of fat. Therefore, I ate 2 cans of fat free Pringles over vacation and I am here to tell you that it will go down in history as one of the Worst Ideas Ever. Initially, I just started shitting orange oil every time I took a dump. Crazy, Halloween-colored orange stuff. And not a little bit of it. A LOT of it. For days.

Sadly, I just took it in stride. Sort of like, "Wow, check THAT out. I'm shitting orange grease. Huh." Such is the life of a chick with jacked up insides. You endure a lot of crazy stuff below the belt without getting too alarmed.

Then, last night, my insides decided to evict themselves in a truly violent manner. I seriously could have shown up for a colonoscopy this morning with complete confidence that I was dead empty from the waist down. It was one of those lay-down-on-the-bathroom-floor-sweating-and-writhing-around episodes. Good times. The pain was so intense that I finally got to practice those neato breathing exercises I learned for labor. You know, since I never actually made it to the part of labor where you push. I just opted for the slice-me-open method. But I digress.

This morning, I ate nothing. Absolutely nothing. Didn't even drink water when I brushed my fuzzy, orange, oily teeth because I was afraid of the Mt. Vesuvius possibilities. Yet, somehow this agitated my gallbladder. Stupid, stupid gallbladder. So I took 2 of my last 3 vicodin and prayed for the best.

Everything stayed quiet for the rest of the day. Right now, I'm staying up until 11:59 so that I can shove every fat free item in the house down my gullet since I'm not allowed to eat after midnight. And my surgery isn't until 12:50pm tomorrow afternoon. That's just cruel, I tell you. The nurse cheerily explained that I could swish water around in my mouth during the day but that I better damn well not swallow it. (Anyone else picturing Michael Scott murmuring, "That's what she said"?)

This time tomorrow I will be gallbladder-free and, presumably, pain-free. Well, there will be the pain from surgery recovery but I bet it will be a cakewalk compared to gallstones. If not, you guys will be the first to hear about it. I'll be bitchin' and swearin' like Courtney.Love with PMS.

Now, if you'll excuse me, some fat free pudding with fat free cool whip is calling my name!

Flying Horses?

2009-06-21T07:02:00.001-07:00

I've decided to post every day in July. I don't know why. I think I feel a little guilty reading the gazillions of blogs that I read, knowing that those people have just as much (or as little) time as I do, yet they still make the space in their day to post.

So I've made up a calendar of what I'll post each day. I'm jumping on the bandwagon for a few staple days each week (Perfect Moment Monday, Wordless Wednesday, Mel's Show and Tell). I'll also do a couple of memes floating out there. To really milk it, I'm going to split E's interview questions for me (from about 100 years ago) into 6 different posts -- since there are 6 questions. Smart, no? I still have 10 days that I need to figure out what I'll post.

My brilliant plan is to write all of those 10 posts next week while I'm laid up after my gallbladder surgery. I tried to be sneaky and had planned to publish a few of the draft posts I've got lying around. But when I looked at them, they all sucked. There was one all about how shitty Liam was sleeping, and it was titled "Flying Horses". I have absolutely no idea why I titled it that, as I usually don't add the title until the end. But, whatever. So, no well of decent draft posts to dip into.

We just got back from a week at Myrtle.Beach. It was a blast! Until the drive home. That was like Hell on Earth. Everything about it was bad. The only thing that didn't blow up in our face was that we neither ran out of gas (although it was close), and the car didn't actually break down (although we seem to have some sort of electrical problem brewing). Worse than it taking about 426 hours to make an 8 hour trip, worse than hearing my darling children wail for hours on end, worse than feeling like I just rode to the Moon and back in a sardine can, is that I missed my date with LJ and Mel. This would be the makeup date from when I missed the TOOTPU gathering a couple of weekends ago. I think the universe hates me. Thanks a lot, universe. Fuck you. The only thing that kept me from climbing up to the roof and jumping off is the adorable picture that LJ sent me of V on my phone. :-)

Okay, it's time to take a shower and start unpacking. We just couldn't face it yesterday. I can't wait to see the little nooks and crannies that Megan has selected to smuggle sandy shells home in.

Vexed and irritated

2009-06-10T07:39:00.000-07:00

gall
–verb (used with object)
to vex or irritate greatly: His arrogant manner galls me.

Raise your hand if you know what your gallbladder does. I bet there are only two types of people who have their hands up right now: those in the medical profession, or those who have had their gallbladders removed.

The good news: I am going to kick some ass in this round the Biggest.Loser contest at my work. I lost 5 lbs last week alone, and will continue to drop it like crazy for the next month or so.

The bad news: Eating has taken on a whole new meaning of pain. My gallbladder has become a traitorous, villainous, evil, spiteful, soon-to-be disposable, miserable little thorn in my side. Actually, in my abdomen.

We're going to cut the bitch out. It can't come soon enough, as eating baked fish and lettuce is getting old. I love both, mind you, but I'm weary of watching everyone around me consume fat. Fat, fat, glorious fat!! Oh how I love thee, I will see you again soon.

I got to spend a lovely 5 hours in the ER of my local hospital learning that I have gallstones. So many of them that neither the Doctor or the Radiologist were able to count them all. Guess what I was supposed to be doing at the very moment I was writhing in pain at said ER? Having a lovely lunch with the TOOTPU gals. Dammit, dammit, triple dammit.

I have to say that it was mighty weird to have so much bloodwork done, and such a lengthy sonogram, yet to have none of it at all oriented to my reproductive tract. That was mostly liberating and exhilarating, but also sort of disappointing. I'm a cycle junkie, I guess I miss it more than I thought.

Just to torture ourselves, while frittering away eons in the ER, Kevin and I got on the topic of a 3rd child. We both firmly agreed that we are thrilled with the 2 we have, and never ever plan on trying for more, but if I magically became pregnant, we'd be happy. Of course it would be like the immaculate conception since I am infertile, Kevin has a vasectomy, and we use condoms (a story for another day). So, let's just say the chances of me magically getting pregnant are slim to none. And slim just left town.

I have an appointment with the surgeon tomorrow. I assume that after that, they'll schedule the procedure. We are going on vacation for a week, starting this Friday, so it will be sometime after that. I'm just so happy to know what the problem is, I could cry tears of joy.

I plan to ask about a tummy tuck (or lipo) and some handiwork on my outrageously separated stomach muscles. In reality, neither of those two things are going to get addressed, I'm sure. But I can still dream. As it is, I won't be able to lift anything heavier than 10 pounds FOR A MONTH. Oh yeah, you read that right. A FREAKING MONTH. In case you were wondering, Liam weighs 22 pounds. Well, shit.

Before you ask, I'll tell you that I don't know what The Plan will be. We're going to figure that out on vacation. I guess I'll import my MIL for a while, hit up my teenage nieces when they aren't away at summer camp, call the 14 year old babysitter in the neighborhood who just put a flyer on our mailbox, and wing it.

Anyone out there thinking, "Why doesn't she call her own Mother?" The answer is that I would hack my own gallbladder out with a rusty butter knife then slather my children in meat juice and leave them in the care of rabid wolverines before I'd let my Mom watch them. Okay, okay, that's a little extreme. She's a possibility. She's just the proverbial Last Resort. For lots of reasons. That's a whole 'nother post, trust me.

By the way, Megan had taken to telling people, "Mommy's ballblather is broken." I snickered every time I heard it, but Kevin eventually made me correct her. Now she over-enunciates it: GALL-BLADD-ER. I've gotta find the humor somewhere, people.

Wow

2009-05-30T17:15:00.000-07:00

Happy Blogaversary to me!

I had no idea that today marked 2 years since my first post. Three different friends left comments wishing me a Happy Blogaversary and I thought they were drunk. Finally, I figured I should check the archives and see when the hell this machine got cranked up. Yup, 2 years ago today. Wow! (Okay, I just read the LFCA for Friday and saw my blogaversary there. NOW I get it. Thanks, Mel!)

I have so much that I could say -- about IF, about blogging, about you guys, about life after IF. But I suck at making time to blog. And my next post will be a book review of The Double-Daring Book for Girls. So don't look for any Hallmark card-inspiring sentiment there.

Just know that I would be in the loony bin right now if not for all of your support (my bloggy friends), for blogging the craziness out of my head, and for the gals of TOOTPU. I wish I could put a big, warm hug in an envelope and mail one to each and every one of you.

Happy Birthday!

2009-05-19T06:03:00.000-07:00

I could think of dozens of wistful, heartfelt, touching and tender things to say about my gorgeous, wonderful, funny little boy who turns 1 today. But instead, I'll just show a few pictures of what he's been up to lately.

He melts my heart and I thank God (and my RE) every single day for him. Happy birthday, buddy!!

It's here! It's here!

2009-04-26T06:45:00.000-07:00

Look what I'm reading!!

I was so excited when it arrived yesterday I think I squealed like a teenage girl after Adam Lambert performance! I was tipped off (by the famous author, of course) to look at the acknowledgements in the back and -- hey! -- there's a shout out to the TOOTPU gals. Yay us!

Now that I have succumbed to a practice which is one of my pet peeves (ending every sentence with an exclamation mark!), I'll just stop. Plus, HELLO people, I've got a freakin' book to read.

Congratulations, Mel. I love you and I love your book. :-)

P.S. - GO BUY ONE!

Cute pictures and not much else

2009-04-22T13:59:00.000-07:00

All at once I have lots to say and then jack shit to say. A real post will be forthcoming, I promise.

In the meantime, just so you know I didn't fall off the planet Earth (since I've totally sucked at keeping up with Facebook too), here are some pictures of the kids...

This is the new love of my life. My little boy freakin' rocks!

Here is Megan in her Easter garb. She's scaled her bed in an effort to get away from Liam -- since he's now into CONSTANTLY following her around. Poor thing, she better get used to it.

I am in awe that ANYONE with more than 1 kid (I still can't believe that *I* have more than 1 kid -- yay!) can get a decent picture of the two of them. These two are the best that I could scrape together after Church on Easter...

Here is what happens when a deer runs into your car (while your husband is driving, thankfully) at about a zillion miles an hour. You get a new hood, a new bumper, a new quarter panel and lots of other cool stuff while your car goes to live in the shop for two weeks. The deer goes to live in Bambi Heaven.

A lame post, I know. But that's about what we've had going on. I'm going to see Bean's little boy on Sunday and I simply cannot wait. Thankfully I've finally found something to get me as wildly excited as I have been for the last few days about the fact that Mel's book is coming early!! Wahoo!!

100% sad about the 27%

2009-03-17T12:10:00.000-07:00

Total number of people in Braces Bunch (1st generation, 2nd generation, rotated off): 62

Those who have given birth and are not pregnant now: 24
Those who have given birth and are pregnant again (all without ART): 4
Those who are currently pregnant: 11
Those who adopted and are not pregnant now: 2
Those who adopted and are pregnant now: 1
Those who are still trying: 17
Those who are not trying: 2
Those who are unknown (pw protected blogs that I can't access): 2

Of the 62 women, 27% are still trying. 68% of these women have realized their dream of having children. While I should be dancing in the streets at that stat (especially because -- HELLO -- I'm one of them), I'm torn to pieces about the 27% still trying. Why? Why? It's just so unfair.

I've been thrown into a tailspin by my friend Rho's latest disappointment. IVF #6 was unsuccessful. I cheerily tried to point out that since this was the first time with donor sperm, it should really count as #1 again. But I couldn't pretend like that is true when I know what her body, her heart, and her ovaries have been through during those first 5 tries.

She is incredibly angry, and I can't blame her. She says she feels "stupid" and removed her blog entirely because she couldn't bear to look so "stupid." While you and I both know she is anything but stupid for working so hard to have a child, it doesn't help her right now. It is a crying shame when someone as wonderful as her is crushed by this bastard called IF.

This will be a the top of the list when I get to the Pearly Gates. In the meantime, I will continue to pray for any and all of my sisters in the trenches.

Don't Kiss the Nanny!

2009-03-05T10:34:00.001-08:00

I bet you dollars to donuts that no one even reads this blog anymore. I'm not entirely sure why I still have it since I don't write up here. Ever. I suck.

I honestly feel like all of the interesting stuff I have left to say is communicated through comments to other folks. I've noticed a disturbing trend -- the less I blog, the longer my comments are for other people. I left a comment on JJ's blog the other day that was about as long as the last Harry.Potter book. It was truly in the category of Stupid Long.

Many times, I've thought about shutting the blog down entirely. But I still get too many hits on DHEA, miscarriage, IVF, secondary IF, and my pee stick pictures that I guess I'll leave it up. There's really no point in making some giant declaration about how I'm Not Going To Post Anymore because, um, hello? That's sort of self-evident.

I've even tried to tell myself that I'm not going to read and comment on other blogs. Hahahahaaaa, I simply can't do that. I opened up my bloglines in the hopes of trimming some of the 70+ links out so that I can get down to the basics. Guess how many blogs I dropped? Three. And only because they have closed down shop. I am entirely too invested in your struggles, joys, tragedies and triumphs to stop reading now. Especially because so many people supported me through my years of Hell, I don't feel that I've given back what I got yet.

Speaking of closing down shop, I was just about to delete the feed for Mary Ellen and Steve's blog when -- SHAZAM! She posted. And she's pregnant. WAHOO! So I'm glad I didn't do my Winter pruning before I got that update.

Anyway, I'll follow the current trend of ticking off a few bullets about what's new:

- Back in mid-February I started answering the interview questions that E sent to me. It rapidly degenerated into some insanely long post wherein I blathered on and on about completely random shit that wasn't even remotely connected to the topic. Therefore, until it gets edited a bit, I'll hold off on publishing it.

- I'd like to send up a giant FUCK YOU to the IF universe for (what seems like) a BFN for my friend Rho's 6th IVF (this time with DS). I mean, seriously? Why does this have to be so shitty?

- Daylight Savings Time is stupid. I can't believe that I'm going to lose another hour's sleep.

- Remember NannyGate 08? Well, the woman that we hired turned out to be a mean, conniving, rude old bat. She screwed us over, essentially milked us out of a couple hundred dollars, and left us stranded. The icing on the cake is that she never said goodbye to Megan, so my daughter is pretty confused and still seems to think the old bitch is coming back. It's VERY hard to be even remotely pleasant when discussing the witch, but I'm trying to be a good person and not let Megan see any of that. Meanwhile, I wrote the lying hag such a nasty letter that it made my eyes burn to read it. I felt great after that. Of course I realized that it wouldn't be in anyone's best interest to actually send said letter, so I edited it a bit and will be sending that version out sometime this week. Don't you worry your pretty little heads, though, it's still plenty scathing.

- We hired a new nanny and she ROCKS. I heart her so much I practically want to kiss her square on the mouth when she shows up each day. Although that would most likely have essentially the opposite effect of what I'm trying to accomplish (gratitude vs. creepiness).

- I got to see LJs gorgeous, amazing little boy. It was absolutely blissful -- snuggling that warm, wonderful, delightful smelling little guy was just heaven. I'm so happy for her I could burst. She's got about half a dozen blogs at this point, and despite the fact that I read them all, I have no idea if/where I should link for her.

- Work is kicking my ass. Because of all the nanny drama, and all of the extra duties related to this new role I took on, I feel like I'm on a treadmill and can't ever get caught up. That doesn't seem to be stopping me from typing this nice, meaty post (meaty in terms of word volume, not substance).

- Thank you to everyone who participated in the group gift for JJ. We got her lots of good stuff and it's been wonderful to finally get some information about little Oliver. Now if I could only get my ass in gear and finish the baby gift I started almost 2 months ago!! Good grief, at this rate the kid is going to be in college before I send it. Although it's lovely, it's not exactly college dorm room decor so I need to hop to it. (Like that Easter Bunny reference? I'm soooooo witty.)

- I have to imagine that you've all heard by now that Bean is on hospital bedrest. Things seem to be going well, but hop on over and entertain/distract her if you have some time.

- American Idol. If you haven't seen last night's show, don't read this. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK were they thinking bringing that stupid, obnoxious, batshit crazy asshole Tatiana back for the wildcard show? Honest to Pete, that was outrageously dumb. If she happens to make it into the top 12 [shudder], I will refuse to watch one single second of the show again until she is voted off. Viciously.

- Liam and Megan have been sick. Megan has had two ear infections for over 3 weeks now. We are on our 2nd round of antibiotics and I think it is finally starting to improve a little. Liam has had such a terrible cold that he needed to use the nebulizer in the doctor's office earlier this week. I've never seen such a sad, heart-wrenching sight with one of my kids. I know it's small potatoes compared to what many of you have been through (babies with serious medical problems, children who have had surgery, any NICU stay at all, etc.), but seeing his beautiful little face all scrunched up under that sterile, ugly mask just broke my heart. Not that I haven't already been sympathetic, but it gave me an even deeper appreciation for the stress and hurt that Shelby has been going through to get Seth's breathing issues addressed.

- I love craigslist. I have bought and sold a bunch of shit up here in the past 6 months. It's just truly magical to me. I'm about to list an assload of stuff to see if I can get rid of it before selling it at the consignment sale I do twice a year. I hope to made wads and wads of cash. Wahoo!

- I am a fat ass. I started a Biggest.Loser competition here at work. Astoundingly, 18 people signed up. It's been fun so far. I simultaneously started the Carbohydrate.Addict's Diet and have managed to shed about 4 pounds in the first week. Wish me luck!

- I'm excited about weaning Liam. I let my production falter quite a bit (sick and tired of pumping), and worked through almost all of my frozen stash. At Liam's 9 month appointment, I explained that we were going to start supplementing and asked what formula she recommended. I was shocked when she told me to go ahead and start him on cow's milk. So we did, and he loves it. Luckily, he still likes breastmilk too. Now the poor guy goes back and forth between nursing, bottles of breastmilk, and bottles of cow's milk. But he never skips a beat, we are lucky.

- In other holy-shit-my-baby-is-growing-up news, Liam is crawling (although mostly on his stomach), cruising, eating almost exclusively table food, saying "da da" (no "ma ma" yet), and has 6 teeth. He never, ever, ever, under any circumstances wants to SIT DOWN (unless you've accidentally left a TV or cable remote control, a microscopic Polly Pocket shoe, or some other blatent safety/choking hazard on the floor), and demands to walk holding on to your hands all around the house. Around and around and around and around. It's back-breaking but still fun. He's still sleeping fairly shitty and has decided that 30 minute naps during the day are super cool. But he's a great kid and was worth every dollar and minute of agony to have him.

Yup, I think that's it. I'm sure there's more useless stuff I could prattle on about, but surely your patience is waning. And, just in case you weren't listening the first time, FUCK YOU IF universe. You can suck it.

Hormonal much?

2009-01-28T19:57:00.000-08:00

I tried to sit down and write a coherent, witty, entertaining post. All I managed to come up with were a bunch of random bullets. However, there was a clear theme -- my thoughts were either wildly HAPPY or horribly bitchy. In a fit of TMI, I will admit that I'm enduring a nasty visit from AF, so I'll assume that she's the whore to blame.

On to the good stuff:

My birthday rocked. I thought turning 40 would be a lot more painful, but it wasn't. ETA: Damn, I need to update my profile now. Ugh.

The amazing, smart, witty, talented and wonderful Jendeis sent me these flowers for my birthday. She is one helluva woman, they really made my day.

My dad flew in from Florida to surprise me for my birthday. Yay!!

Approximately 14 gazillion people wished me happy birthday over Facebook. I heart you Facebook. (Nevermind where I tell you to suck it later in this post. Hey, I already admitted I was not rational right now.)

Megan has had off school for umpteen days in a row (parent teacher conferences, snow days, water main breaks). We've had lots of fun days at home -- making cookies, doing crafts, playing Barbies.

Liam and I are FINALLY over the wretched colds we had for more than 2 weeks.

Lots of wonderful people have contributed to JJ's group gift. I get to go BRU on Friday and buy up some baby gear. Yippee!

I think that her belly is about the cutest thing ever.

I can't wait to see her belly in person -- it makes me want to cry because I'm so freakin' happy for her.

I can't wait to see her belly again too!!

I am so out-of-my-mind excited for her baby to be born that I am having a hard time sleeping. Of course the birthmom is probably sleeping worse than me (as well as LJ, dontchathink?) seeing as how she's been in labor for what feels like a month now.

My sister signed us up to take a cooking class together. This was probably the best birthday present I got!

She is starting stims soon. This is the cycle, I just know it!! It's GOT to be.

Now for the bad stuff:

Bloglines can suck it. I'm sick of seeing that I've got hundreds and hundreds of unread posts when there are really only 4. Piece of shit software.

Facebook can suck it too. It bitched me out for sending the message about JJ's gift to too many people. Um, HELLO? I was trying to CONNECT with people. Isn't that the point? Assholes.

Our nanny sucks. I've been interviewing people for the past couple of weeks with plans to replace her soon anyway but she's sucking more every day (and she doesn't even know she's getting replaced). I'm tired of her attitude, her passive agressive bullshit, her incessant family drama, and her refusal to perform basic tasks.

Nintendo can eat shit and die. I hate it that my Mii is such a fat tub-o-lard on Wii Fit. Damn, people, I already KNOW that I'm fat. That's why I bought Wii Fit. At least that cute litty smartypants animated Wii Fit board went out of his way to wish me a happy birthday.

Liam was healthy for a whopping 2 days before he got a fever this afternoon. Are you SERIOUS?

Why in the holy hell does life need to continue to deal her and her so much dung? ENOUGH ALREADY!

I think that's enough for now. Thanks for listening. :-)

Giving back

2009-01-21T19:54:00.000-08:00

There seem to be some bloggers that we all know... Mel, Geohde, Alexa, Heather, Serenity, Julia, Antigone, Julie. I would hurl myself in front of a train for a few of these ladies, I'm not too proud to admit.

There's another one that is extra, extra special to me... JJ at Reproductive Jeans. She is a truly amazing woman. She has her hand in about 100 things at one time, yet always seems to be able to lend support or kindness whenever it is needed. As the brainchild behind the Braces Bunch (Generations 1 and 2!), she has helped dozens and dozens of women connect and become just that much closer through our association with the group. (Much like how LJ facilitated the truly invaluable support offered by TOOTPU.)

Perhaps it's because she gave us the most touching and beautiful gift for Liam that we received. Perhaps it's because she has a voice like an angel (if you don't believe me, buy one of her CDs). Perhaps it's any one of the 263 ways that she touches other people's lives each week. Anyway, JJ is always so giving, I wanted to give a little back to her.

If you know JJ, you know that she is on hospital bedrest right now, awaiting the birth of her baby boy. He will be here very soon, and although it's earlier than expected, we are all no less excited. To help prepare for his arrival, I have set up a page where folks can donate to a group gift for JJ.

Initially, I began attempting to contact the dozens of ladies in the Braces Bunch individually. But after getting my virtual wrist slapped by Facebook for engaging in annoying and possibly spam-like behavior (screw you FB, hmmmph), I figured I'd just put it out here for anyone who visits my blog. Mel has also agreed to put it on the LCFA for a few days. If you know that some of JJ's friends visit your blog regularly, please feel free to include a link as well (either to this post or to the baby gift site directly).

So, if you are interested (and haven't done so already -- thank you to all of you who have contributed thus far!), please head on over and join in the group gift/hug we are sending to JJ and Mook.

Then go hug your favorite blogger. :-)

A short post full of very little

2009-01-12T12:03:00.001-08:00

Don't forget -- vote for Mel. She's kicking ass in 1st place right now, but voting hasn't ended yet. Go vote!!

I have plenty to blog about, but no freakin' time. The biggest news of all is we finally have Liam's sleeping on track. Amen! I'm hoping to now regain some semblance of my former mental acuity previously robbed by the Sleep Deprivation Demon.

But I will leave you with a picture of my beautiful baby boy. He's got 4 teeth now, blows kisses, and has finally decided to SLEEP. I didn't think I could love him any more than I already do...

VOTE FOR MEL!!!

2009-01-06T16:27:00.000-08:00

Go here. Vote now. Vote every day! (Pretty please.)

Thank you Secret Santa!

2008-12-22T20:07:00.000-08:00

Know what I love more than the Braces Bunch? Getting a present from my Secret Santa in the Braces Bunch! Wahoo!!*

Today I got a lovely package from battynurse full of ornaments, peanut brittle, and a kick ass card. These are thoughtful gifts that I truly, truly enjoy. Last year I got an ornament from Becky and I smile every time I look at it on the tree. Now I can do the same with the ones from battynurse.

Despite how shitty IF and the ensuing self-torture it creates is, there is some light in the darkness. It is all of you. Thank you, battynurse. And thank all of the rest of you who read, who care, and especially those of you who supported me while I whined through my last post.

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas to all of you!

* Of course I love JJ most of all. :-)

2,482

2008-12-18T19:19:00.000-08:00

Two thousand four hundred and eighty two. That's a big number.

The number of BFNs we endured to make our children? Nope.
The number of injections I endured to make our children? Possibly.
The number of crack whores who get pregnant every day by mistake? Nope.
The number of wasted birth control pills I took over the years? Possibly.
The number of times I've cried over a situation related to IF? Possibly.
The number of times I've laughed out loud at Alexa's blog? Probably.
The number of times I've thanked God and my lucky stars for my children? Possibly.

So what is it?

A portion of number of ounces of breastmilk I've frozen in the last 6 months. Impressive, no? If I'm tallying correctly, I've actually frozen over 2,600 ounces because I've been defrosting and starting to use it over the last 2 months.

But what is with the 2,482? It's the number of ounces of frozen breastmilk that I just threw away. Yes, you read that right. Threw it right the hell away. Shocking, I know.

It seems I make an excess of the enzyme lipase. I wasn't savvy enough to scald my milk prior to freezing it, so it caused my milk to become rancid in the freezer. My reaction to figuring this out? "Well, fuck me." Liam's reaction to being fed the gross milk? "Um, no thanks."

It sucks that I spent that much time pumping. It sucks that I spent that much money on breastmilk bags. It sucks that I was planning to quit breastfeeding this month and now that ain't gonna happen.

Mostly it sucks because breastfeeding was my One Thing. I am a near failure at getting pregnant, I am a near failure at staying pregnant, and I am a near failure at labor & delivery. But I've always puffed my chest up with pride that I am A Cow. I can make some milk. Copious amounts with nearly no effort. Now, that One Thing That I Do Well is tainted.

I understand that breastfeeding challenges and breastmilk supply issues are practically the norm, so I've shied away from discussing them much on this blog because I couldn't live with myself if someone felt I was gloating in any way. But the ceremonial dumping of nearly 20 gallons of milk makes me yearn for some sympathy.

If you'd rather say "screw you and your freakish lactation abilities, Leah" I understand. Otherwise, please just leave a "dang, that sucks" comment so I can feel that proverbial warm hug from my blog buddies. thanks!

In which I make you wildly jealous

2008-12-15T07:22:00.000-08:00

What's better than a room full of cookies? A room full of cookies and fellow IF bloggers.

I know I sound like a broken record when I'm always gushing about the TOOTPU gals, but they are just the best. I don't have much time today to go into all the reasons why, so I'll just let you know who you missed...

Bean
Lindsay
Meghan
Mel
Karen
Jendeis
Sunny
Antigone
Shelby
Barren is the New Black
Hopeful Mamma
YummySushiPajamas
In and Out of Luck

Later I'll post a group shot of us. We didn't get one with all 14 of us in it, but I believe there are some with *most* of us. I'll also post a picture of the cookies. Oh, the cookies. I'm up to my eyeballs in cookies and brownies right now. What's a Weight Watchers girl to do?!?!

Unfortunately, my imaginary friend Rho couldn't join us. Heavy sigh... Someday she'll make an honest woman out of me.

To Pee or Not To Pee

2008-12-08T11:49:00.000-08:00

I can't stop peeing my own pants. I get a fresh pair on and then WHAMO! I think about my friends Sunny and Lindsay and get so damned excited that I pee myself again.

I'm going through $1,000s in laundry detergent but I don't care. I am so over-the-moon crazy wild freak-out happy for them that I think I might be enjoying the peeing. Is that wrong?

Anyway, go over and congratulate the lovely ladies. I'm beyond thrilled for both Sunny and Lindsay!!!

After posting, I realized that my title might give a vague impression that I'm considering peeing on a stick. NO. There are no more sticks, no more tries, no more cycles, nothing. And, given that Kevin's been "fixed", there won't be any "surprises" either. So don't even let your mind ever go there while reading my blog. You'll never have to hold your breath when you open this page and wonder if you'll see an unexpected announcement. Not gonna happen. Not that we wouldn't be overjoyed, it's just not. gonna. happen.

A Cornucopia of Babblings

2008-12-02T08:34:00.000-08:00

I haven’t posted in a million years so I’m just going to prattle on with a series of not-necessarily-related bullets…

Thanksgiving was great. I am very, very sad to see my Dad, brother and niece go as they were wonderful houseguests and just damn fun to have around. I’m so lucky that I love my family! We spent a lot of time with my sister’s family (who live 30 minutes away) and my Mom (who is staying at my sister’s house). We ate turkey, we played Wii, we went bowling, we sat on Santa’s lap, we watched football, all that jazz. It was wonderful.

Liam’s baptism is this coming Saturday. I just finished shuttling most of my family to the airport and we’ve got a half day break before the onslaught begins again and our house is filled to the brim with the next round of people.

My brother and niece stayed 8 days, my Dad stayed 4 days, my Mom is still here (switching from my sister’s house to my house today) and her visit will total 17 days, my Great Aunt-in-law will be here on Thursday, my 2 brother-in-laws (with their families) along with my Mother- and Father-in-law will be here on Friday. SOMEDAY we will get our house back to ourselves.

Megan was such a sweet, funny, well-behaved little girl while my family was here. I’m so proud of her. She only melted down twice and both episodes were in the evening on a day that we didn’t allow her to nap. Can’t blame the kid.

On Halloween, we all went to bed healthy. When we woke up on November 1st, Megan, Liam and I had colds. None of us have fully recovered. That’s over a month, people! I’m sick of snot. Mine, Liam’s, and Megan’s. I think we are single-handedly keeping Kleenex in business.

Megan had a double ear infection that cleared up with meds. Liam had a double ear infection that did NOT clear up with meds. So we tried another med. That worked, but within a week he got ANOTHER cold so thus another set of double ear infections. Now he’s on that 2nd med again, with the hopes that it clears up again and we don’t need to move on to a 3rd med and/or visit the ENT to discuss tubes.

Megan has been sleeping like a rock star. For the FIRST TIME IN HER ENTIRE LIFE she slept until 9:15am the other day. It’s because she insisted that she was going to sleep as late as Tara (my 20 year old niece who was sleeping on the trundle bed in Megan’s room) and Tara routinely slept until noon while here. Oh, to be 20 again.

Liam sleeps like complete shit. It’s unbelievable. We are doing everything “right” -- putting him down awake, letting him soothe himself to sleep, sticking to a schedule, having him sleep and nap in his crib, putting him to bed early (around 7pm), using a white noise machine, stopped using the pacifier (he only wanted to play with it anyway), not nursing or bottle feeding him to sleep. It doesn’t matter, nothing helps. He goes to sleep fine but won’t stay asleep. He naps 30 – 50 minutes at a stretch but needs so much more than that. At night he’ll stay asleep for 3 or 4 hours in that first stretch, but it’s all downhill after that. He’s not hungry, he’s not cold, he’s not hot, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong. We hear him wake up about once an hour, but often he just puts himself back to sleep. Other times, he can’t (or won’t) do it. We did the cry it out thing at 4 months to let him teach himself how to go to sleep and it worked. But he won’t STAY asleep. Something has to give soon. Any and all advice is welcomed.

Many of you will have your fingers poised over the keyboard to comment and say he’s probably sleeping like shit because he has had a cold and/or ear infection for well over a month. While this is no doubt true, he’s slept shitty like this since he was 3 or 4 weeks old. He just sucks as sleeping. Luckily, he’s such a pleasant baby otherwise, so that makes it a little easier to take. But I am tired. So, so tired.

I can literally count on 2 hands the number of times that I have slept more than 6 hours in a row in the last 5 years. FIVE YEARS PEOPLE! I wish I was kidding, but I’m not. I’m too tired to kid around about that. I wonder what kind of toll this type of outrageously abusive sleep deprivation will have on my long-term health.

I’m so tired. Have I mentioned that already? Tired to my bones. Within 20 minutes of waking up, my eyes are so slimed over with sleep and yuck that I feel like I just dig at them all day long. I yawn until my eyes water so badly that people keep asking if I’m crying. I got to Liam’s doctor appointment 15 minutes early yesterday and he was asleep in the back set. I sat in the car in the parking lot and closed my eyes for a little rest. I woke up 20 minutes later with drool running down my face. That’s not cool.

Kevin finally got a job. He was out of work for 2 months. He started last week and seems to like it. Hopefully he doesn’t turn into the raging dickwad he became once he let work consume him at that last hellhole where he worked.

This Christmas is going to rock. Megan really, really gets it. Unfortunately, that also means she wants everything – everything she sees in a catalog, everything she sees in a store, everything, everywhere. Despite the fact we are now back to being a dual income family (see the “Kevin finally got a job” bullet above), this child needs NOTHING.

I have achieved 3 major milestones that my infertile little heart has longed for year after year after year after year:
1) We had a family picture taken this year – me, my husband and my two kids. It still blows me away to say that: “my two kids.” Bliss.
2) I had a friend embroider our names onto our Christmas stockings. We bought these 4 Christmas stockings when I was pregnant with Megan and have been holding on to them for nearly 5 years now. I’m so excited to pick them up later this week and get them hung on the fireplace that I’m giddy.
3) We are buying matching pajamas. Megan has been begging for matching family pajamas for months now so I got them over the weekend. I am not sure that I’ll let anyone see us in them so there may not be photographic evidence of it, but I can’t wait to wear them and sit on the floor as a family, playing with Christmas toys. We decided that “Santa” is going to give them to the family so we can’t wear them for Christmas morning, but it will still be loads of fun.

I am fatter than hell. Weight Watchers helped me lose about 5 pounds but I went completely berserk in the last 2 weeks and gained every bit of it back. I feel wretched about myself. Add to this that the bags under my eyes could be considered a full 5 piece set of luggage and you have one skanky looking chick. One skanky looking, haggard, fat chick.

I am planning to try the elimination diet. Why? See the “I am fatter than hell” bullet and the “Liam sleeps like complete shit” bullet above. I don’t necessarily think that he’s got serious allergy issues, but with the reflux, the spitting up, the eczema, and the horrific sleeping, I have to assume *something* is going on. Since I need to throw a bucket of ice water on the steamy, hot love affair I have with food – ALL FOOD – I figure that the elimination diet will kill 2 birds with 1 stone. Wish me luck. I’m not trying it until after the holidays because that’s just emotional suicide otherwise.

I am DONE with Christmas shopping. DONE. Can you believe it? I was out at Toys R Us at 4:50am on Black Friday with my niece. I’ve never done that before, but it was fun. I’ve even already purchased the gift for my Braces Bunch Secret Santa person and will ship it out on Wednesday. Yeah, I rock.

The TOOTPU Cookie Exchange is coming up soon. I can’t wait. I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait. Wahoo! I just saw some of the lovely ladies at Lindsay’s Paper Pregnant Party and am truly looking forward to seeing them again.

Want to know what’s on my Christmas list this year?
1) Sleep. Lots of it. Not gonna magically happen, but a girl can hope…
2) Time. Can someone bottle it up for me?
3) A magic weight loss pill.
4) A self-cleaning basement.

My blog colors were getting on my nerves. (Did I also mention I'm enjoying my 2nd visit from AF?) So I changed them, but I don't like them either. However, they will do for now. Blogger has shitty color choices but I'm waaaaay too lazy to change to another blogging tool now.

An extra gold star for you if you stuck with me to the end of this crazy long post!

Snicker

2008-11-12T18:09:00.000-08:00

This is blatent laziness, but you've got to go over and read these jokes.

I assume that everyone in the free world reads Alexa's blog. Not just because she's got nearly 200 subscribers, but because she is one of the funniest, wittiest people on the planet. Anyway, in her post yesterday, she asked everyone to put something funny (joke, pun, comic, etc.) in their comment.

Much like Alexa, her readers are intelligent and damn funny. Go over and read through the comments when you need a laugh. You won't regret it. Then come back here and tell me what was your favorite.

Just when you think she is a genuis

2008-11-03T11:36:00.000-08:00

This post should have the subtitle, "When you know that CNN/AC360/Meet the Press/etc is on the TV too much in your house..."

Megan is apparently into politics. She asks a million questions and many of them are frighteningly deep. Not just for a 4 year old, for a 40 year old. Since Mel posted about her children's political interests and shenanigans, I'll share with you a conversation we recently had in the car...

Megan: "Mom, who are you going to vote for?"

Me: "I don't know yet."

Megan: "I'm voting."

Me: "Really? Who are you voting for?"

Megan: "Well, at first I wanted to vote for Barack Obama and Joe Biden. But now I think I'll vote for John McCain and Sarah Palin."

Me: "Hmmm. Why?"

Megan: "I like Sarah Palin."

Me: "Oh? Why?"

Megan: "Because she is for America, and I am for America. I really like America."

Me: "I like America too. What else do you know about her?"

Megan: "She's pretty and she looks like Miss Kelly [my best friend]."

Me: "Well, that's true but those aren't good reasons to vote for someone."

Megan: "I think we should keep President Bush [Leah stifles a shriek], but you told me he had to go. And I agree, 8 years IS a long time."

Me: "So why John McCain and Sarah Palin?"

Megan: "It's important to love America and they love America."

Me: "Do you think that Barack Obama and Joe Biden don't love America?"

Megan: "Hmm, I guess they do too. I don't like war. I want to vote for who will end the war."

Me: "Yes, peace is very important. They will all end the war, it's just a matter of who will end it quicker."

Megan: "Well, you know I like to do stuff fast. Super fast. Zoom! I can run SO fast, Mom!"

Me: [sidestepping a discussion about foreign relations policy and troop withdrawal plans] "So, how do you feel about taxes?"

Megan: "Taxes? What do they taste like?"

Like the title says, just when you think she is a genuis...

Turds, Pumpkins and the Sea

2008-10-28T18:52:00.001-07:00

I feel like a turd because I really want to post some pictures that would have thrown my infertile ass into a depression. Or a rage, depending on the day. Pictures of cute kids in costumes and carved pumpkins. My cute kids and the pumpkin that I carved of a Dis.ney Princess.

When I read posts like this one by Pamela Jeanne (and the 3 referenced therein), I am instantly transported back to that time. Back to those feelings of suffocation. Despair and jealously would overtake me and I'd be in a funk (a cute little word to describe my depression) for weeks after the pumpkin patch episode recounted by Luna here. I've had that experience, many years in a row.

But, as I said, apparently I'm a turd. Because I'm so enthralled by the pictures I've taken that I feel as though I'm forgetting my roots. Therefore, I'm going to post the pictures on my Face.book page. Many of you are already friends with me there, but if you aren't let me know so we can get connected.

In the meantime, I'll working on slaying the beast that has set this inner turmoil in motion -- the turmoil that is causing me to toss about in the sea of holiday-induced infertility depression residue mixed with I'm-crazy-about-my-kids-and-want-the-world-to-ooh-and-aah-over-them euphoria.

Wish me luck.

Dear John,

2008-10-18T06:03:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not referring to Jendeis' hubby in a dyslexic fashion. I'm talking about the Dear John letters that we've all written. The it's-not-you-it's-me ones, the oops-I'm-in-love-with-your-best-friend ones, the now-that-I've-gotten-to-know-you-it-makes-me-want-to-jam-a-hot-fork-in-my-eye ones. You get the point.

I remember once finding a website that had templates of such letters. You could just fill in the pertinent names and send it off. How convenient! It got me to thinking that there should be a stock of IF posts that we could just copy in certain circumstances instead of having to write them all ourselves from scratch.

Here are the ones that I think I could have used:

I just discovered this IF blog world and HOLY SHIT it has changed my life. You all understand me. You all get me. You all ARE me!
Why can crack whores and slutty teenagers get pregnant at an alarming rate but I can't do it despite the fact that we've completely drained our bank account and our emotional reserves?
My best friend just got pregnant and although I love her with all my heart, I want to rip her stupid fertile eyes out.
I'm very happy for all of my bloggy friends who are now pregnant, but forgive me if I can't muster gushing joy.
I'm so. damn. tired. I don't know if I can keep doing this. Forgive me, but I need to go away for a while.
I am overwhelmed by the love and support I've received from this amazing network of women. We don't even know each other, but that doesn't seem to matter.
I'm in the 2ww and am entirely convinced that this didn't work.
I'm in the 2ww and am doing the blog equivalent of a stage whisper about how I think it actually worked.
POAS? Not POAS? POAS? Not POAS?
My beta is low and not doubling. Please tell me it's going to be fine.
My beta is high and I'm scared shitless that it might be twins. While that's like the IF equivalent of winning the lottery, the reality of it is freaking me out.
I'm pregnant and am completely consumed with worry.
I'm pregnant and don't blog anymore because I feel like a giant heel complaining to all of you.
I'm pregnant and just went to the bathroom to find blood on my panties/the TP/in the toilet. Please tell me it's going to be fine.
My husband/sister/mother/fertile friend doesn't understand how I've gotten so attached to people I'll never meet. Even I don't get it, but I wouldn't trade you angels for the world.
I just puked my brains out on a stranger in Tar.get. I've never been so happy in my whole life.
Whoever made up the term morning sickness was a raging dickwad. It lasts all day and I feel wretched. But I'm still thrilled to have this problem.
I just gave birth and my child is the most amazing creature on Earth. Not to put too much pressure on them or anything, but I think this little human is beginning to heal the Grand Canyon-sized hole in my soul.
There is no way I would have made it through these last ## years without the support of you lovely ladies. I heart every last one of you.
Now that I'm settling into this Mommy thing, I don't know what to do with this IF blog.

Can you think of more?

P.S. - Has it really been a MONTH since I've posted? What a damn slacker.

Finally! Some good news.

2008-09-19T17:52:00.000-07:00

Sprint as fast as you can over to Bean's blog and congratulate her on a great beta. After the recent letdowns in my universe (Kevin losing his job, LJ losing Miss Queen, Sunny's IVF), I was pretty damn down in the dumps.

Bean's great news has helped lift my spirits. What else helps? The fact that my son seems to think that oatmeal cereal has a threefold purpose: food, toy and face mask.

A bunch of people have asked for pictures of the little monsters, so here they are:

While here in my family, we are known for having big mouths, I still think that we should tell Liam that perhaps this ball is a bit too large to fit...

This boy loves his bouncy seat

These last 3 are from the county fair

Well, shit

2008-09-12T16:06:00.000-07:00

What a day.

Kevin lost his job today. [insert jaw drop here] He's been there almost 8 years and worked his ass off for them. This company sucks beyond belief (I used to work there, I know). If you don't believe me, ask Rho since they screwed her husband over as well previously (plus she used to work there too).

LJ and Mr. Badger aren't going to get the baby. I can't tell what I'm more upset about -- that my husband is unemployed or that LJ won't be snuggling Miss Queen anytime soon. They both make me cry.

My prayers are with Galveston, TX and anyone else in the path of Ike.

In minor news, Liam slept like complete dung last night. He never even slept this poorly as a newborn. Surely that's not helping my mood.

I have to tell you that if Sunny and Bean don't get BFPs, I might just jump off a freakin' bridge!

Bloggy Things

2008-09-08T12:35:00.000-07:00

Here are some random blog-related thoughts...

I stole the little Feedjit thing for my blog so I could see where people were coming from. I've always been jealous of people who knew that folks got to their blogs by googling "apple-colored monkey snot" or "too sexy for my shirt" or whatnot. I still don't know how people do it (feel free to clue me in), but at least wanted to know who all these people were that were reading my blog.

Frankly, I'm shocked that anyone still reads as I've been such lame blogger of late. So THANK YOU if you are still reading. :-)

Anyway, I noticed that an embarrassingly large number of people come to my blog via Google images. Specifically they come to the pee.stick photo gallery post. I went over to Google images and typed in pee.stick. Sure enough, my post pops up. Neato.

Next subject: I am always amazed at how many people I recognize when I comment on someone's blog. It's clear I travel in a familiar circle. It's not a small circle, mind you, as I regularly follow almost 100 blogs, but we all seem to know the same people.

When I added the 2nd generation of Braces Bunch gals to my Bloglines, it introduced me to a whole new circle of lovely ladies that appear to mostly know each other. I love to read comments on someone's blog where the two are clearly familiar because they are usually hilarious. I'm so excited that many of them have received BFPs since I started reading them!

It's funny to see these gals from the BB post comments on the blogs that I regularly read. I'm sure they were there commenting before but I didn't know who they were so I guess I didn't notice. In particular, Jen comments on nearly every blog that I read (I have no idea how in the world she has so much time and energy to post every day AND leave such nice comments on everyone's blogs, she is amazing), yet I don't think she knows me from Adam. Ditto for J who comments everywhere but we have never commented on each other's blogs. It just makes it feel like such a small world when it's really such a giant community.

Okay, enough rambling. While I'm linking all over the place, let's send a big hearty congratulations to Meghan on the birth of her daughter!! Then hop over to my buddy LJ's blog to send her thousands of good vibes in the hopes that the birthparents of Miss Queen make the decision to select LJ and Mr. Badger.

Name Game

2008-09-04T20:08:00.001-07:00

I am digging this name meme going around. Since I'm working hard to post more often, I'm going to be fairly lazy and do the meme unstead of posting something substantive. C'mon, surely you've learned to accept mediocrity from me by now, yes?

The Name Game

1.Your rock star name (first pet, current car): Inky Accord

2.Your gangsta name (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe): Mint Chocolate Chip Flip Flop

3.Your Native American name (favorite color, favorite animal): Blue Dog

4.Your soap opera name (middle name, city where you were born): Christel Cheverly

5.Your Star Wars name (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name): Conle

6.Superhero name (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Green Root Beer

7.NASCAR name (the first names of your grandfathers): Kenneth Eugene

8.Dancer name (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Vanilla Peanut Butter Cup

9.TV weather anchor name (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): I have no idea -- do you seriously remember your 5th grade teacher's name?

10.Spy name (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Autumn Wildflower

11.Cartoon name:(favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now): Nectarine Pajamas

12.Hippie name (what you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Apple Cherry

13.Movie star name (first pet, first street where you lived): Inky Albatross

More pics

2008-08-31T09:49:00.001-07:00

I guess I've opened up the floodgates because now I want to post more pictures. :-)

We had pictures taken at the mall yesterday. I scanned in some of them because I'm into breaking the law. Then, I'm so lame that I took a picture of some framed pictures. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Here is a trilogy of the whole gaggle of dorks:

And here are a couple of the kids:

I honestly got misty when I saw the family photo. All my life I dreamed of taking a family photo. Of course I imagined myself considerably thinner, but I'm working on it. I just cannot believe that I am the person in that picture of the happy family with 2 kids. I've avoided writing the post about how EVERY SINGLE DAY I feel like I've won the freakin' lottery. Each time I try to write, it disintegrates into a sniveling, rambling mush of gobbledygook. So I probably won't be writing it.

But suffice it to say that the level of bliss and the feeling of gratitude I'm enjoying lately is beyond comprehension. Don't get me wrong -- Liam isn't sleeping for jack shit and Megan is so obnoxious sometimes that I told her yesterday she was going to win the Most Annoying Person Ever award. Nice thing to say to your 4 year old, eh? But even with the daily trials and tribulations, I never, ever, ever, ever take for granted one moment of the day. I'm lucky beyond the luckiest lucky sap ever created.

Enough gushing. Thank you a zillion times over for supporting me on this journey. 'Nuff said.

I love you more than old pee

2008-08-28T11:14:00.001-07:00

I swore I wasn't going to plaster pictures of my children all over a blog that is supposed to be about IF. But I'm weak. I can't resist. Hell, I'm so deranged that I'm planning to post a video I took of Liam, that's how bad I am now.

I genuinely enjoy looking at other bloggers' kid pictures, even did while still trying to TTC. Plus, I have about a dozen pictures of pee sticks in various posts, so how can I not at least have equal amounts of my kids without sending the message that they are less important than dried urine?

If you don't want to see them, I understand. Otherwise, scroll down...
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Here is one of the little dude smiling away

Here Kevin was reading them a book

Pay no attention to the drool on his shirt

IF Tourette's

2008-08-15T20:17:00.000-07:00

I'm still just in awe of the post I mentioned in my last entry. So right on the money. Wow.

It insipired Sky to post her feelings on the subject. She is a saint of a woman. She is still able to be genuinely happy for other pregnant people (non-stirrup queens). It's like she's from another planet or something, that's how much I don't understand how she is able to do it.

I am not a saint of a woman. No way, shape, or form. After I left a comment on her blog about the post, I realized it contained some of the stuff I'd been wanting to talk about here. So, since I am spectacularly lazy, I'm just going to copy my comment verbatim...

"You are a far, far better woman than I. For I am bitter and jealous and all things nasty. I wish I wasn't, but I am. Although I usually hide it well because most people never know.

However, I do audibly snort in disgust when a woman complains about not getting pregnant on the first or second try. I guess that's not so subtle, huh?

Also, I am ultra sensitive to the notion that someone within earshot might be experiencing IF that I don't know about. Therefore, when some dumbass says to me, "Wow, a boy and a girl... you sure are lucky" or "Hey, you had the whole summer off for maternity leave, you sure planned that right", I go crazy. It's like I've got IF Tourette's Syndrome because I start mouthing off like a lawn sprinkler on crack saying, "It takes us a long time, a lot of work, and a lot of money to make babies. We endured 4 IUIs, 3 IVFs and 2 miscarriages to get where we are. While I do feel lucky now, I didn't in the past and I certainly wasn't able to plan jack shit. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, dickwad."

Hmmmm, perhaps I don't actually hide it all that well after all, eh?

I truly hope that your IF journey ends soon, that you get the baby(ies) you so desire. In the meantime, I hope you are able to hold on to your positive attitude and ability to genuinely be happy for others. I'm too jaded and evil at this point to do it. Sad, but true."

Luckily I know I'm not a horrid person with a hard, black heart. These are my feelings based on my current circumstances (and previous 5 years of infertility). I distinctly remember my uber-fertile neighbor telling me once that I wasn't horrible. I was complaining that I was that person -- the one you need to tiptoe around, the one you are afraid to announce a pregnancy to, the emotionally fragile one. That's icky, I don't want to be that person. Anyway, she said, "You aren't THAT person, you're just in THAT situation right now."

Her comment helped me immensely. It didn't make me any nicer to the fertiles in the world, but it sure made my cold, black little heart feel a bit better that day.

I Heart Bridges

2008-08-14T21:09:00.000-07:00

How in the heck did I miss this post? Good grief, I want to have it tatooed on myself somewhere.

The fact that I now have 2 healthy children stops me from doing such a radical thing because, well, I would feel pretty hypocritical. But it is, nonetheless, exactly how I felt during our IF journey. Hell, it's how I still feel when I see a confident, carefree, glowing pregnant chick. After I'm done spitting nails at them and giving them the EvilEye, I want to read the post to them verbatim.

By the way, I found this post by hopping around on Bridges and just reading random posts that seemed interesting. If you haven't gone to Bridges yet, you really should.

As for me, things are good. I started back to work today. That was a serious drag. I love my job, and I love my co-workers even more, but I wish I was home with my kids. Oh well, not gonna happen (unless we'd like to be homeless) so I need to hitch up my panties and get going.

I have 4 different posts started but none of them finished. Maybe now that I'm back at work, I'll have more time to post. That sounds awful, but damn if it isn't the truth... Also, I'll post some pictures soon. Megan's 4th bday is in about a week and Liam is a few days away from 3 months. I feel so blessed it truly makes me cry sometimes. I'm such a sap.

Please head over and give Rho some love. My heart is breaking for her.

Are You Serious?

2008-07-31T06:22:00.000-07:00

Did you guys see this story about how more women are donating eggs because the economy is bad?

http://www.fox5vegas.com/news/17045493/detail.html

It's the end of the article that kills me:

He said it is a fairly simple process that takes about three weeks. “It's more invasive than donating sperm, but still, it's painless, and there's more time involved, but we try to make it as smooth a process as possible,” Shapiro said. He said the side effects of donation usually include some aches and cramps, similar to those of a woman's period.

WTF?!?! Obviously spoken from a moron who never actually donated eggs. Stupid jackass.

Lame Slacker

2008-07-11T19:57:00.000-07:00

Yeah man, that's me. Ms. Sucky Blogger 2008. I'm considering getting myself a beauty pageant-style sash with that printed on it. I actually have numerous things I've wanted to post about, but can't seem to get the thoughts to gel together in my head (I'm sure the sleep deprivation doesn't have anything to do with it). Also, I've got to stop reading Alexa's blog because after enjoying her posts, anything I could possibly write sounds like it was penned by a drunk preschooler. Reading her stuff is good for the entertainment value, but bad for a blogger's ego.

In the meantime, I've got a few pictures...

We eat a lot of deli rotisserie chicken in our house. Kevin and I always pull on the wishbone (sounds sorta dirty, that's funny), and I swear to you that I win 99.9% of the time. Anyway, today we snapped a wishbone and, as usual, I won. What did I wish for, you ask? I wished that this person would have a healthy and safe pregnancy (with no more drama) resulting in a gorgeous stupendous baby. Man oh man oh man I hope that wish comes true.

The next couple pictures of are Megan and Liam. It's impossible to put into words what it feels like to have him here (other than "tiring" but that's okay too), so I won't try. Instead, I'll spend my energy praying for healthy babies for all of my friends who desire them. Here are the little devils tearing up our house these days...

TOOTPU on Sunday

2008-06-24T18:59:00.000-07:00

If you live anywhere within a reasonable distance of the DC Metro area, please come and join The Order of the Plastic Uterus (formerly knows as the DC Metro Stirrup Queens) on Sunday! You've heard the stories of our great gatherings, and they are all true.

We are meeting at The Cheesecake Factory in White Flint Mall at 12 noon this Sunday (6/29). Let me or Shelby know if you are coming so that we can get a count. Hope to see you there!

Had a snake as a pet

2008-06-23T07:33:00.000-07:00

I've got nothing of interest to talk about right now except babies and boobs, and don't feel like prattling on about either of them. So, I'll do this meme -- I saw this on a bunch of other blogs and think it's neato. The ones that I've done are orange.

Bought everyone in the bar a drink
Swam with wild dolphins
Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
Been inside the Great Pyramid
Held a tarantula
Taken a candle lit bath
Said I love you and meant it
Hugged a tree
Bungee jumped
Visited Paris
Watched a lightning storm at sea
Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
Seen the Northern Lights
Gone to a huge sports game
Walked the stairs to the top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa
Grown and eaten your own vegetables
Touched an iceberg
Slept under the stars
Changed a baby’s diaper
Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
Watched a meteor shower
Gotten drunk on champagne
Given more than you can afford to charity
Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
Had a food fight
Bet on a winning horse
Asked out a stranger
Had a snowball fight
Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
Held a lamb
Seen a total eclipse
Ridden a rollercoaster
Hit a home run
Danced like a fool, not caring who watched
Adopted an accent for an entire day
Actually felt happy about your life, even for a moment
Had two hard drives for your computer
Visited all 50 states
Taken care of someone who was too drunk
Had amazing friends
Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
Watched wild whales
Stolen a sign
Hitchhiked in Europe
Taken a road-trip
Gone rock climbing
Midnight walk on the beach
Gone sky diving
Visited Ireland
Been heartbroken longer than you were in love
In a restaurant sat at a stranger’s table and ate with them
Visited Japan
Milked a cow
Alphabetized your CDs
Pretended to be a superhero
Sung karaoke
Lounged around in bed all day
Posed nude in front of strangers
Gone scuba diving
Kissed in the rain
Played in the mud
Played in the rain
Gone to a drive-in theater
Visited the Great Wall of China
Started a business
Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
Toured ancient sites
Taken a martial arts class
Played a computer game for more than 6 hours straight
Gotten married
Been in a movie
Crashed a party
Gotten divorced
Gone without food for 5 days
Made cookies from scratch
Won first prize in a costume contest
Ridden a gondola in Venice
Gotten a tattoo
Rafted the Snake River
Been on television news program as an “expert”
Got flowers for no reason
Performed on a stage
Been to Las Vegas
Recorded music
Eaten shark
Had a one-night stand
Gone to Thailand
Bought a house
Been in a combat zone
Buried one/both of your parents
Been on a cruise ship
Spoken more than one language fluently
Performed in Rocky Horror
Raised children
Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
Picked up and moved to another city
Walked on the Golden Gate Bridge
Sang loudly in the car and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking
Had plastic surgery
Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have
Wrote articles for a large publication
Lost over 100 lbs
Held someone while they were having a flashback
Piloted an airplane
Petted a stingray
Broken someone’s heart
Helped an animal give birth
Won money on a TV game show
Broken a bone
Gone on an African safari
Had a body part below the neck pierced
Fired a rifle, shotgun or pistol
Eaten mushrooms gathered in the wild
Ridden a horse
Had major surgery
Had a snake as a pet
Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
Slept for more than 30 hours over 48 consecutive hours
Visited more foreign countries than US states
Visited all 7 continents
Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
Eaten kangaroo meat
Eaten sushi
Had your picture in the paper
Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
Gone back to school
Parasailed
Petted a cockroach
Eaten fried green tomatoes
Read the Illiad
Selected one important author who you missed school to read
Killed and prepared an animal for eating
Skipped all of your school reunions
Communicated with someone without sharing a common language
Been elected to public office
Written your own computer language
Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
Had to put someone you love in hospice care
Build your own PC from parts
Sold your own artwork to someone that didn’t know it was yours
Had a booth in a street fair
Dyed your hair
Been a DJ
Shaved your head
Caused a car accident

Now you try it...

A Woman of Six Words

2008-06-17T19:13:00.000-07:00

I am many things, both good and bad. One of them is NOT verbally brief. My nickname in Junior High (that's the equivalent of Middle School for you young whippersnappers who don't know what Junior High is) was "Loquacious Leah." Okay, so my friends were big geeks who used words like loquacious.

By the way, have I ever mentioned that in High School I was co-captain of the cheerleading squad, VP of the student council, and the biggest drug dealer in the school? Yeah, I'm a woman of many talents. I also played on the basketball team (um, I'm barely 5'4") and got kicked out of school halfway through 11th grade for smoking an illegal substance right in the hallway between classes. Can you say "stoopid?" I did manage to go back and take a year and a half worth of classes in my Senior year to graduate on time. Shockingly, they didn't ask me to be the Valedictorian despite the fact I had a perfect 4.0 GPA. That's me, I'm a real walkin' talkin' paradox. I'm so straight-laced and law-abiding and downright yuppyish now you would never ever believe this stuff, but it's true. But I digress...

Anyway, Bean tagged me to do this 6 word memoir meme. I've also been tagged to do at least 1 other meme, so I'll try to post about that one tomorrow.

Here's the deal with this meme:

1. Write your own six word memoir.
2. Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like.
3. Link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original post http://herebaby.blogspot.com/2008/06/six-word-memior.html if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogsphere
4. Tag 5 more blogs with links
5. Don't forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.

So, to sum myself up in 6 words...

"Ferociously loves family, friends and food"

Sort of lame, but all so true. Now I tag JJ, E, Bee Cee, Portia, Sunny, and Kristen.

Happy Blogaversary

2008-06-10T19:11:00.000-07:00

Geez, long time no post, eh? You'd think I had a new baby around the house or something.

First off, let me say a belated Happy Blogaversary to me! It was on May 30th and I would have completely missed it if Susan hadn't mentioned it in a comment on my last post. How she knew is way beyond me, I've even convinced myself at this point that she must have thought she was commenting on someone else's blog. :-)

Also, CONGRATULATIONS to Farah on the arrival of Austin (aka Mini Vann). We're so excited he's here, safe and sound!

Things are good here. Liam is still not so interested in nursing, only latching on with the nipple shield. And I only try that sporadically. Mostly because when he isn't in the mood, he starts screaming like I'm snapping his little chicken legs off and beating him with them. That makes both of us agitated, hot and sweaty. That sucks since it's been about 6 bazillion degrees in Maryland lately (I'm not exaggerating), and a not-so-balmy 80 degrees or so inside my house despite the air conditioning trying so hard it's about to kill itself. So I haven't even tried much lately, but I will in earnest when the heat wave breaks. Plus, I love, love, love the freedom of having him drink from a bottle. Anyone can feed him -- and I mean anyone, hell, the UPS man could probably feed him and Liam wouldn't care. I did so love breastfeeding Megan, but felt trapped and tethered sometimes.

What I don't love? Pumping. A million times a day. I've been pumping every 3 - 4 hours during the day and going a 6 hour stretch at night. I've managed to provide everything he needs to eat (he takes 3 - 4 oz every 3 hours or so), and I tallied up my frozen stash last night. In addition to feeding him, I've managed to freeze almost 150 ounces. Not to shabby for just over 2 weeks of pumping. But I can't keep up this pace. I'm going to drop to pumping 4x a day, every 6 hours. We'll see what that does to my supply. Who the hell knows.

Liam is doing great, he's a good baby. He's developed his fussy period at night, about an hour and a half around 8 or 9pm. It's not too bad (Megan was a million times worse), but it's inconvenient because that's when we are putting Megan to bed. I just hope it doesn't get worse because right now -- despite the fact he's shrieking for no good reason during that time -- it's manageable. I'm looking forward to him sleeping longer than 3 hours at night, but that will come. At his 2 week appt he was exactly 8 lbs (a full pound above his birthweight!), so he's certainly not having any issues with eating or weight gain. That's a relief.

Megan's adjustment issues are getting better. We're far from out of the woods, but we can at least recognize progress.

That's it for now. I'm heading to bed in the hopes that this splitting headache disappears soon. Before I go, I'd like to ask you to head over and show some love to two of my favorite blog buddies who are having a rough time right now. LJ and Bean -- I love you two ladies, I wish I could sprinkle some pixie dust on you both and make everything magically better.

What a difference a day makes

2008-05-24T11:07:00.000-07:00

As bad as Thursday night/Friday morning was, that's how good it's been since. Remember how I said I was only going to give Liam a couple of days of these non-breastfeeding shenanigans before I moved to pumping and bottle feeding? Well apparently I meant a couple of hours. By 1pm yesterday, I had pumped and he'd eaten from a bottle. What changed my mind? While on the phone with the LC from the hospital (as I explained that even the nipple shield didn't work), she said something that made my blood run cold: SNS. I knew that if that was my next option, we were doomed. So off to pump and bottles for us.

It's been straight uphill since then. He's had several more bottles, and by this morning even has the hang of eating from it without the obligatory 5 minutes of confused crying at the beginning. He's sleeping like an angel and was great at the doctor this morning. Things are really looking up.

I will definitely try breastfeeding again after this weekend. We want to get the rest of the bilirubin out of him and get him back to his birthweight, then I'll try it again. Also, in an incredibly sexy twist on things, my nipples have scabbed over. Nice, huh? He abused them so badly in the hospital that they are literally scabbed over. So no doubt breastfeeding wouldn't be much fun for him either.

He was born at 7lbs, weighed 6lbs 12oz the next day, and 6 lbs 11oz when we were discharged on Thursday. Today, just 2 days later, he weighed 6lbs 13.5oz. I'm not sure how he managed to gain 2.5oz while also missing essentially 3 meals yesterday, but I'll take it!

Megan? Doing about the same. Still unreasonable. Still refuses to nap (3rd day in a row). Still refuses to go to bed early (just lays up there and sings for an hour instead of falling asleep). Still pure evil. She's a bit less obnoxious with Liam, but has now turned on her beloved Grandparents. Which is sad, but we all understand what is going on. To ease things, we tried giving her a little 1-on-1 time today. After the doctor (where she was VERY helpful), we came home. I pumped, we packed up some food, and headed out the door. Grandma and Grandpa stayed home to take care of Liam while Kevin, Megan and I had a picnic at the park. It was really nice. Although both Kevin and I already felt that there was someone missing. Amazing! Now she's upstairs crying, refusing to nap, being generally evil.

I am going to pump and then nap myself. Hopefully when I get up the little boy will be awake so we can snuggle for a bit. All in all, things are good today. Thanks for your words of support and encouragement, I really appreciate it.

A couple of pics of Spidey

2008-05-23T14:13:00.000-07:00

Sorry to make this brief, but it's approaching dinner time around here and that's when it all goes crazy... :-) Here are a couple pics of Liam. Goodness knows we'll have lots more as the days go on, but I thought I'd put just a couple up here for now.

We're home (subtitle: Crash and Burn)

2008-05-23T08:05:00.000-07:00

Thank you to everyone for the well wishes! I am very happy to report that the c-section was uneventful with no surprises. My recovery seems to be going well, so that's good news too.

In the hospital, little Liam was an angel. He proved to be a champion breastfeeder, although his suck is almost as powerful as a jet engine. Ouch! But that's okay, Megan was so horrible at it that I would take the opposite problem any day of the week. The first night, he was as good as gold and we actually got lots of sleep. The 2nd and 3rd nights, he cluster fed overnight which wasn't much fun, but it helped my milk come in quickly. He barely lost any weight, much to everyone's amazement. I didn't have one single freak out hormonal meltdown. In fact, I don't think I cried at all. Megan came to the hospital for a visit every day and was an angel for her Grandparents. All in all, things were going great.

Then we came home. We've been home about 24 hours now. I'm not sure who has cried the most in this first day -- Liam, Megan or me. Megan was out of control, spinning between being wildly overhelpful and lying on the floor screaming, kicking and crying. She didn't nap yesterday (too excited) and didn't get to bed early (despite the fact it could have happened, but that's another topic for another day). She's pissed that we won't let her carry Liam around by herself, that we won't let her change his diaper by herself, and that she can't hold him on her lap non-stop. I knew this would happen, so I was prepared, but I didn't realize how badly she was going to freak out. That's what started my crying jag and it's continued now for the better part of 18 hours. Good times.

Liam decided he didn't like breastfeeding that much after all. He latches on, sucks a while, and pulls off screaming. I have been pumping with the hand pump a bit before he latches on (new since coming home and his boycott) to make sure there's milk there and something nice and long for him to latch on to. But he's lazy. His suck is much, much weaker. One theory is that I've got so much freakin' milk in there that my boobs are too hard and he can't get as good a latch. So today I will pump and do something the LC recommended called reverse softening (or something like that). He was up from 3:00 - 6:30am last night screaming, eating, burping, screaming, burping, screaming, eating, etc. It was exhausting, mostly in an emotional sense. He'll only get a few days of these shenanigans and then I'll go to pumping and bottle feeding. I went through hell and back to get Megan to breastfeed and I don't have it in me to do it again.

At this very moment, Megan is at school and Liam is sleeping on his Grandma's shoulder. I've showered, dressed, had breakfast and time to update my blog. So I really shouldn't be complaining. I think it's just that it seemed like things were going to be so much easier this time around and we took such a sharp nosedive. But this too shall pass.

Thank you again to everyone who commented. It made me feel so good to see how many people were checking in! I'll catch up on my reading over the next few days, so forgive me for not commenting. Also, I'll post some pictures of the little dude later today.

Introducing....

2008-05-20T05:11:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody this is Leah's friend Rhonda. I am SO SO SO very excited to announce the arrival of LIAM MASON!! He was born yesterday am at 08:59, was 7lbs even and 19 in. Leah and Liam are doing great.

I am absolutely overjoyed for Leah, Kevin and Megan. Yahoo!!

Pictures

2008-05-18T07:39:00.000-07:00

No, not pictures of the baby. He's not here yet. But good grief, now that I think about it, he will be here in about 24 hours. Holy shit, people.

Anyway, I've been asked a bunch of times for pictures of Spidey's room, and for belly shots. I'm more of a pee stick picture person, personally. But I realized that I only have 1 picture of myself pregnant with Megan and it bums me out. She asks to see it all the time. So I figured I'd let Kevin take 1 today seeing as how this is our last chance.

Therefore, there are quite a few pictures in this post. The first one is the best -- it's the blanket that the amazing, wonderful, beautiful and talented JJ made for Spidey. I swear to you that I tear up every single time I look at it. JJ, you are the best. I love you and can't wait to return the favor. Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY today, my friend.

The next few pictures are of Spidey's room.

These last couple are belly shots, but Megan decided to get in on the act. I think they are just adorable. Achingly cute, in fact. So if you don't want to see a cute toddler kissing a giant belly, I'll understand. In that case, I'll sign off now and will plan to update sometime tomorrow with a picture of the little dude. Rumor has it my wireless will work at the hospital. Thanks again for all of your support!

Scroll down for the last couple of pictures...

Are You Ready to Rumble?

2008-05-12T06:49:00.000-07:00

This post is basically all about baby preparations. If you don't want to read that junk, feel free to skip it.

Nothing interesting going on here with me. I had another NST on Friday and things look good. They declared Spidey's fetal monitoring strip as "perfect" and my blood pressure as "good enough." I've got one last NST this coming Friday and then, assuming nothing extraordinary happens this week or over the weekend, Spidey will get evicted at 9am on Monday. It's crazy to think that a week from right now he'll be on the outside. Wow.

My friend C, whom I've posted about before, is having her baby today. She's the one who had the high NT numbers and the Kell positive blood problem. She's been getting weekly MCA sonograms (which measure the velocity of the throughput of a particular artery in the baby's brain) to monitor the Kell issue. She's also been having some amniotic fluid issues, but they tend to correct themselves by the next appointment. She's 37w1d today and went in for an amnio to ensure that the baby's lungs were ready for the scheduled c-section tomorrow. Well, her amniotic fluid is so low that she's having the baby today. Wow.

I'm still not sleeping for shit. I basically don't even bother attempting to go to sleep until sometime between 2:30 - 3:00am. Then I sleep in the chair until around 4:30am. Then I move to the guest bed until I get up around 6:30am. I've been trying to nap for an hour or two in the afternoon to make up some lost ground. I'm tired, but not completely useless so I guess my plan is working.

What's nice is that in those quiet hours between 11pm and 3am (when Megan and Kevin are asleep), I'm getting a lot done. I've written down everything I can possibly think of to help my in-laws take care of Megan. They live in Syracuse, and although we talk to them often on the phone, they only get to actually see Megan about 3 times a year. So to show up and attempt to care for her on their own for nearly a week while I'm in the hospital will be interesting. Plus, they aren't arriving until Sunday afternoon and we are leaving at 6:15am on Monday morning for the hospital. Nothing like cutting it close, folks! But beggars can't be choosers and I'm grateful they are uprooting their lives to help us so I shouldn't complain.

I've left directions to everywhere they would want to go (her school, the park, the library, the mall, the hospital, the grocery store) complete with maps. I've left detailed schedules for the 4 days I'll be in the hospital. I've left lists of what she eats (luckily she's not picky). I've created a medical authorization form for them in case of an emergency. I've made up a menu for the week and the corresponding grocery list to do over the weekend.

Spidey's room is ready. There are even decorative things on the walls. This past weekend we washed the car seat lining and brought the bassinet up from the basement. We didn't use a bassinet with Megan, she slept in her crib from the first night home from the hospital, but we were in a small townhouse at the time. Now we are in a larger house, it's a haul to get to the baby's room umpteen times a night. My neighbor gave me a perfectly lovely bassinet so I figured why not try it out. If it doesn't work, we'll ditch it and move him to the crib.

Megan is crazy excited. Frankly, a little too excited. I'm 100% certain she will be doing inappropriately dangerous things to/with the baby in the name of "helping." She's also been doing some advance homework on the whole regression thing. She cried 2 different times last week at night going to bed because I wouldn't let her wear a diaper (she's been potty trained for 1.5 years). She cried another night because I wouldn't let her sleep in the crib. She's asked twice if we will be moving back to the townhouse once the baby comes (presumably because she knows we lived in the townhouse when *she* was a baby, so that's where babies live). I've read so much on Shelby's blog about her struggles with Celia's potty accidents that I'm scared shitless about what's going to happen here. Heavy sigh. But, whatever it will be, it will be. And we'll figure it out. She's not the first kid in the history of the world who had to welcome a sibling and lose their spot in the limelight. She'll get over it.

Boy, I sure did ramble on for someone who has basically nothing to say. Perhaps it's my way of forced optimism after that neurotic and depressing angst-filled post about the DBTs. I actually do believe that this might work out, I might have a live baby next week. FINALLY, FINALLY this past weekend, I caught myself switching from using "if" to "when" while discussing the baby's homecoming. At this point, I think I'm more nervous about the c-section recovery than anything else. No driving for 2 weeks, no lifting Megan for a while, that will be rough. Especially because she's so short that I still need to lift her up to wash her hands whenever we are out somewhere. Kevin suggested I just bring hand wipes and ditch the sink washing activities until I'm fully healed. Good idea!

I said dozens and dozens of prayers yesterday for all of my friends who are hopeful mothers. I pray that each and every one of you experience a wildly happy and fulfulling Mother's Day in 2009.

Book Tour: The Working Woman's Pregnacy Book

2008-05-06T19:45:00.000-07:00

Because I love Mel so much, I thought it would be cool to participate in a book review when she asked. I didn't get the book I wanted to review, but instead was asked to do The Working Woman's Pregnancy Book. To be honest, I didn't expect learn anything new. I had a bit of an attitude from the minute I picked up the book, just knowing that it was a waste of my time.

See, I've been at this game (trying to get pregnant, trying to stay pregnant, or being pregnant) for the better part of 6 years. Plus, I've been the working pregnant woman through all of my pregnancies (full time for the first one, 30 hours a week for the others). I know how to work and be pregnant at the same time. I couldn't imagine how or why someone would need to write a whole book about it.

Also, I'm an information junkie who takes a stranglehold approach to the control of my own medical issues, fertility treatments, and prenatal care. I research, I read, I scour the Internet, I quiz my Doctors like they are sitting before an exam review board. Therefore, I have the dubious distinction of being wildly overeducated. Based on that, it would really take a lot for me to be bowled over by too much in the way of information related to pregnancy.

Well, let me tell you that I was in for a pleasant surprise. I'm not sure I can come up with 1 thing that isn't addressed in this book. I expected it to be a bunch of crap about employment law, how you aren't supposed to lift heavy boxes or handle radioactive chemicals (duh), when/how to tell your boss, and whatnot. While all that was covered (without the pandering attitude), it was also a treasure trove of general pregnancy information. Seriously, there is so much in this book that you don't even need the other pregnancy books (you know the ones I mean).

Here were some of my favorite things about it:

I love how she just outright called bullshit on a bunch of myths related to conception (myth of adoption as a fertility treatment, myth about propping your hips up after sex, etc.). Unfortunately that didn't stop her, just a few short pages later, from quoting a woman who magically turned up pregnant (after 5 unsuccessful IUIs) the day of their meeting with the adoption counselor.
She also called bullshit on numerous other myths such as heartrate being able to determine gender and the like.
I liked the section on nutrition in the first trimester. She said if you are only able to keep down crackers and Reese's peanut butter cups, then go for it. She was very realistic about soft cheeses, sushi, lunch meats, etc. One of my favorite lines in the book (and maybe it's because it made my mini cupcake obsession in the first trimester feel justified) was, "Food that isn't particularly healthful, such as a candy bar, isn't poison; it just substitutes for other fare that might provide more of what you and your baby need." Yay for junk food!
She did an excellent job of clearly explaining the specific differences between all of various types of Practitioners you could see for prenatal care (OB, family doctor, different kinds of midwives, RNs, NPs, doulas, MFMs). She also cleared up the differences between Level I, II and III NICUs. Very helpful.
She discussed any and all of the crappy pregnancy aches, pains and ailments. She said what it was, what you could try, and when to call the doctor. That's my kind of advice -- don't dwell on it, yet don't tell me I'm being a wuss either.
She makes an honest effort to explain the vortex of logic that surrounds the whole "40 weeks = 9 months" concept.
When discussing the debilitating first trimester fatigue, she says one of the smartest things I've ever heard: "Accept less of yourself."
Plus so many others my carpal tunnel was starting to flare up from jotting them all down, so I had to stop.

Being near and dear to my heart, I devoured the section on infertility treatments. I found her advice to be honest, timely and correct. I especially loved her explanation of how treatments will impact you -- how hard they are on a marriage, how you will experience a negative reaction to other people's pregnancy announcements, how you should expect to feel emotional throughout the process. She provides tips for how to juggle work demands and the grueling requirements of infertility treatment appointments. All in all, it felt like she knew what she was talking about. The biggest bonus of all was that she never once botched the difference between transfer and implantation.

I am just a huge fan of the way the she approached most everything in the book: here is what it is, here is the medical explanation, here is how it works, here are the myths and other crap you'll hear about it, here's how you might feel about it, and here is what you can do about it. I loved that she went into a lot more medical detail than most pregnancy books, because I prefer that type of information. Glossing over the medical specifics and using "floofy" words feels patronizing to me (personally). Perhaps some other women don't want all these laborious details, but it's exactly what piques my interest in a topic.

Of course she included quotes from a bunch of people that I loathe: people who had a forceps delivery without an episiotomy. People who exercised every day -- "I went for a run 30 minutes before I went into labor." (Yeah? Well screw you.) People who exercised 4 times per week -- including the day they went into the hospital. (That's just silly.) There was even some lady who climbed a 4,000 foot mountain at the end of each of her pregnancies just to prove she could do it. (Me, personally? I have WAY better uses for my precious free time and scant supply of energy.)

The worst one of all was in there: "I wasn't sick one day of my pregnancy, I felt great." Those are the people that kill me the most, the people who say, "I never felt better!" Are you freakin' kidding me? I mean how BAD must you have felt prior to being pregnant that this now feels GOOD? Geez.

Good grief, everything is in this book. There are too many great things to name but it covers soup to nuts including prenatal care, BBT charting, infertility treatments, fetus growth milestones, prenatal testing, maternity clothes, job accomodations, how jacked up your body gets and all the unpleasantness that goes with it, how amazing your body is as it magically grows another human being, birth plans, labor, breastfeeding (including how to do it successfully after returning to work), the trainwreck your body becomes after delivery, the trainwreck your emotions become after delivery, newborn behavior, PPD, childcare options, postnatal care, birth control, etc.

For any woman embarking on pregnancy while working, it is probably exactly what they are looking for -- a compliation of useful information all in one spot. Hell, it's a great resource for people who aren't working. Truthfully, many times it read just like I talk. It contained the same information in the same straightforward manner that I convey to my friends when I'm aiming to offer helpful advice. Based on that, I'm going to declare that I liked it. Lots. Go buy it.

Cathartic or just whining on my part?

2008-05-05T07:32:00.000-07:00

LJ and I have been sharing our ugly, dark & twisty thoughts lately. It's so wonderful to have someone to discuss these things with. Although our thoughts are on completely and totally different topics, we both have the ability to understand how much they suck. I know you already know this, but I heart you LJ. :-)

Since LJ had the guts to post her thoughts, I will too. These aren't exactly Earth-shattering and there will be many pregnant infertiles alike that will nod their head as they read them, but it was cathartic to get them out of my noggin to LJ (I actually slept a few hours last night -- woohoo!), and perhaps it will be even better if I put them out there for the IF world to see. Feel free to comment and tell me I'm not totally crazy.

A big problem I'm having right now is that I can't sleep. I can't get comfortable in the physical sense one bit. But I also can't quiet my mind...

The bigger problem I have is the dead baby thoughts. Every time I feel the baby kick, I look at the clock. No, I'm not doing kick counts. I'm noting the time so that later in the day when I call my OB in a panic to say I haven't felt any movement in X hours, I know exactly how long it's been. This is exhausting. It's like eternally being on the "fight" side of the fight or flight reflex. I wish I could stop.

The DBTs are always, ALWAYS there but I became totally irrational on Saturday night. After spending, oh, I don't know, about 2 hours reading blogs of stillborn stories (which I do often), I decided to turn in for the night. Usually when I settle into the glider to pretend like I'm going to get some sleep, the baby starts going crazy. I swear he's rearranging furniture in there most days. Well, on Saturday night he was completely still. Nada. Nothing. I pretended like it was okay. Finally, when I started to break into a sweat, I started poking and pushing him around. I wasn't exactly gentle, I was really manhandling him. That always elicits at least a roll or elbow or something. Again, nothing. I started sort of hyperventilating and trying to figure out who I could call at 1am to stay with Megan while Kevin and I went off to the hospital to confirm the worst.

Finally, after 5 straight minutes of torturing this kid, I went downstairs. Still nothing. I drank some milk, ate some Oreos, and sat on the couch. I stared at my stomaching, willing it to move. Still nothing. It must have taken another 5 minutes of jacking around, jabbing myself in the midsection, to get him to wake the hell up and move. Then he was up for the night, ready to party (totally my fault). But I didn't even care, I was so happy to feel it that it didn't matter.

I'm just having a hard time understanding why I should get a live baby when so many people experience horrible late term loss. I'm still not fully on board with why I ever got knocked up in the first place when totally deserving, wonderful people are not. I don't mean to be hard on myself, but I am not sure why I got so lucky when others don't. Therefore, I'm always on high alert expecting tragedy to strike at any moment. It's not like I think that 3 years, tens of thousands of dollars, 2 miscarriages, 4 IUIs and 3 IVFs isn't "enough dues to pay". Perhaps it is. But I still feel so sad and so empty that so many of my IF friends are still being tortured. I suppose I'll never understand.

But, the hormones, the lack of sleep, and the reality of what's about to happen here is clearly fucking with my head. I need to try to be happy and stop obsessing about when my baby will up and die inside of me. That's not helpful. I countered all of that shit on Sunday by acting wildly optimistic. I pre-ordered envelopes for birth announcements so I could get them addressed. I wrote thank you notes for baby presents that people had already sent us. We hung pictures and other stuff on the walls in the baby's room. All in all, I acted like I really think this is going to work out. God knows I hope it does, but I still have a hard time believing it.

Is this Survivor Guilt? I don't consider myself a survivor yet, not until he gets here safe and sound. But I think I'm perhaps trying to assuage my impending Survivor Guilt by assuming that the worst will happen. Why I do get to be a survivor? Why do I get to be the inmate in the dirty and tattered striped prison pants on the outside of the fence? It hurts so much to see all the other wrongfully imprisoned inmates on the "wrong" side of the fence, looking forlorn and banging their tin cups up against the chain link. We are all trying to tunnel our way out, digging to China with a broken plastic spoon. Why did I hit less rocks, why was my fence seemingly buried a bit less deep? For Pete's sake, why can't I just be happy for myself and not obsess about everyone else who isn't?

This has all been rattling around in my head for some time now and hopefully it's cathartic to get it out. I've hesitated to post this because I feel foolish putting stuff like this up here. Who wants to read an infertility blog when it's paragraph after paragraph of an enormously pregnant chick complaining about being pregnant? No one, that's who.

Thanks to everyone who listens to me whine. Poor Rho usually got the brunt of it but goodness knows she's got enough on her plate right now. Therefore, I've been torturing LJ and a select handful of others (lucky you!). I pray each and every day that things will turn out okay. Words simply can't describe how much it would suck to get this far and then lose it all. Dear God, please don't let that happen.

Arrivals and Anticipations

2008-05-02T20:24:00.000-07:00

Many of my blog buddies recently delivered their babies (most in the last week) or will be delivering soon.

For those of you up to sharing in their joy, please stop by and offer congratulations. For those of you not in the frame of mind to be able to do so, please know that I am sending you dozens of warm and sincere hugs.

Here are the newest arrivals to my little circle of friends:

Jackie welcomed Sylvia Grace on May 1st
Delenn welcomed Willow on April 24th
Caro welcomed Theo on April 30th
Erin welcomed the WonderTwins on May 1st
CE welcomed Baby J on April 13th

And yet more are due in the next 2 months. Feel free to stop by and cheer them along in the home stretch:

Grad3 is waiting to meet Lil' P any day now (a few days shy of 40 weeks)
Gabby is waiting to meet Wyatt Ethan in about 5 weeks
Farah is waiting to meet MiniVann in about 8 weeks
Kami is waiting to meet Little Butterfly in 6 about weeks
In and Out of Luck is waiting to meet their baby in about 7 weeks (going to be surprised about the sex)

As for me, nothing too exciting. Today's OB visit revealed elevated blood pressure, but not so bad that they were worried. The NST went well, Spidey cooperated just fine. Only trace amounts of protein in my urine, so the Doc was pleased. He said to keep on doing what I am and come back next week for more of the same fun. Meanwhile, I'm continually on the verge of hyperventilating at the thought that I'm having a baby in 2 weeks. Good grief, people.

Thank you, thank you, 112 times thank you

2008-04-29T12:59:00.000-07:00

I was so busy not posting for so long, then posting my brains out at the beginning of bedrest, that I failed to notice my 100th post. This is actually post #112. My blogaversary is in a month (May 30th), so it's hard to decide what to spend all my party funds on. Do I get an ice cream cake and cut it into 100 slices to commemorate my posts? Or do I get a pinata of some sort, fill it with empty vials and used needles, then smash it to smithereens on May 30th? (Yes, I know that's dangerous, I'm only kidding here.)

Anyway, thank you so much for those of you who have taken the time to read my ramblings. Whether you're part of the Braces Bunch crew who have been kind enough to read mostly from the beginning, whether you've been reading for 6 months, or whether this is your first time reading (sorry it's so dull today), thank you. Your comments have helped me more than any mere words can possibly say. The friendships I've had the fortune to cultivate -- including the in-person ones with the Order of the Plastic Uterus ladies -- are ones that I treasure beyond description. I absolutely, undoubtedly, most definitely would have gone stark, raving mad if I didn't have your support. I wish I was kidding, but I'm not.

I became a fairly boring blogger once I got pregnant this time. I had no idea what to say, I couldn't bear the thought of being a whiner. I'm sure I lost many a reader due either to my pregnant state (which I completely understand) or due to my lame-ass posts (which I completely understand). I was never diligent enough to pay attention to my subscription numbers to see if they rose or fell over the year. I definitely get less comments now, but that's okay too. What's crazy is that when I get my sitemeter reports, I'm still getting lots and lots of hits per day and per week. So I suspect that people are still reading, they just aren't commenting.

This is all fine. Except now that I have nothing but time to lounge around on my ass and think, I'm starting to wonder just who is reading. Never mind that on numerous occasions I have noticed that the location is frighteningly close to home -- often times just a city or two away. I'm not terribly worried about that because the smack that I talk about people is typically the same things I say to them in person anyway. However, I'm intrigued by how I get so many hits and so few comments.

Here is where I let my insecurity hang out. As soon as Mel posted a little while back about how she wondered who was still reading (since her comment numbers were down), I thought, "Right on. I wonder the same thing myself." So I'm asking if you wouldn't mind letting me know you are out there. A simple, "Yup, I read your crappy posts. I just don't comment because they aren't comment-worthy" would be fine. (Obviously you could skip the hostile tone, but you get the point.)

In the meantime, please accept my most sincere thanks for being my support system this past year. It's a rare and delicate gift, these friendships, and one that I don't ever take for granted.

The Big Secret -- Revealed

2008-04-24T11:33:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay. I'm sorry I left you hanging with The Big Secret. It's all so crappy now that it doesn't pack nearly the same whallop. The big secret was that my IRL buddy Rho got a second line on an HPT! She called me on Tuesday evening after taking the test and gave me the news. I was absolutely beside myself with excitement, I couldn't sleep a wink that night. I resisted the urge to drive to her house the next morning for the pee stick festivities just to drink in the good vibe of that 2nd line.

Then, it turned to crap. She tested on Wednesday morning and this morning and got nothing. Just stark whiteness staring her in the face. She's crushed. I'm crushed. I don't understand why life is so outrageously cruel to some people. She doesn't deserve this. None of us do. Right now I am so angry, so hurt, and so sad for her that it's like an elephant is sitting on my chest sometimes.

Please go over and offer some support. My heart is so sad for her.

As for me, apparently I'm quite good at the bedrest thing. I had my first NST today and it went well. My blood pressure was in the acceptable range, I only had trace amounts of protein in my urine, my ankles aren't the least bit swollen, and the baby cooperated with the whole non-stress test thing. My "modified bedrest" sentence wasn't lifted, but the Doctor did say... and I quote... "Keep doing whatever you are doing, it seems to be working." I'm not being nearly as strict as they originally prescribed, but it's still amounting to about a 70% cutback on what I used to do (I was pretty active). So we'll stick with this plan until next week's test and see what it says.

He was kind enough (um, not) to check my cervix. No dilation (no surprise, I never dilated with Megan, even on Pitocin) but 50% effacement. Hell, I was probably 50% effaced at 12 weeks for all I know. Anyway, I'm still hoping to hold off until my c-section date on 5/19 so we'll see how it goes.

I'm slowly working through the Braces Bunch cards. I'm excited to send them out, I know how much I love to get mail from you lovely ladies! It feels good to be reciprocating again. I was really good at sending stuff for the first few months, but seriously slacked at the end of last year. I'm sorry!!

Now I'm off to wallow in my sadness for Rho and shake my fist at the Infertility Gods. Bastards.

Christmas in April

2008-04-22T18:28:00.000-07:00

I have a secret, but I can't tell yet. Maybe on Friday. I'm so excited that I can't hardly stand myself, I'm giddy and vibrating with excitement. Enough said, I'm just getting annoying with all the gushing without being able to tell you...

To all of you in the Braces Bunch... Christmas is coming! This is going to sound insane, but I'm getting ready to send out Christmas cards. Actually, they are holiday cards (most have snowflakes on them). I have had them sitting in my office, addressed and stamped, since early December. There is absolutely no reason that I haven't sent them except I haven't written anything worthwhile on the inside. Now that I'm on bedrest -- no excuse. So, in honor of our 1st anniversary of the BB, I am going to send them out soon. Look for them in your mailboxes!

I took a picture of the amazing blanket JJ made for Spidey, but our computer is acting stupid so it's not letting me upload it. I'll get that figured out post haste and will get it up here for all of you to admire.

Otherwise, things are going well. Bedrest is okay, still dull but seems to be working. I had an eye doctor appt yesterday and it took forever. All the walking and waiting and other nonsense took it's toll. (Clearly, I'm no Delenn!) I mentioned to them (when they asked) about the blood pressure stuff so they immediately took it. It was considerably higher than it's been at home -- albiet still not outrageously high -- so I guess my OBs knew what they were doing when they banished me to the couch. Damn them. First NST is on Thursday, hope it goes well.

Daughtry, Cookies and PJs

2008-04-18T10:13:00.001-07:00

Wow, it's amazing how much time you can waste surfing on the web. I'm a bit embarrassed, frankly. But it has afforded me the opportunity to realize that I simply must get an i.Pod. I would love the ability to walk around with a private stash of my own personal favorite songs on demand.

I took Kevin and Megan to the airport yesterday afternoon. They went to Chi.cago for Kevin's cousin's wedding (and a family reunion). I had planned all along to stay home -- "no thanks" to the idea of hauling myself cross country at 35w pregnant -- so it was okay. But you know what is hard for a hormones-on-overdrive woman to do? Drop her impossibly cute, unendingly lovable daughter off at the airport and watch her walk away, waving at the car. I sobbed the whole way home.

Then I cried when I got home because I hadn't picked up her toys before we left and there were books, Bar.bies and Polly.Pockets strewn all about the family room. How could I miss her so much when she wasn't even on the plane yet? Ugh.

I managed to sleep pretty well last night (mostly in the glider sitting up), and even squeaked in an hour of extra shut eye thanks to having the house all to myself. But then I started just prowling around, pacing the hardwoods. I did some work, I sent some emails. I had to distract myself. I woke up this morning wanting peanut butter toast. Alas, I had no bread. So what did I do? I made peanut butter cookies. A great idea until you eat 3 of them. Before 10am. Not such a good idea.

I realized I needed to move on from the cookies. So I went looking on the Web for what I consider to be the best American.Idol performance ever. Boom! There it was on You.Tube, easy as pie to find. Then I just spiraled down into a 3 hour long show of video clips. I even found one that I didn't know existed, and I love it!!

What's crazy is that I'm not a big rock fan. I like it. Hell, I grew up on Peter.Frampton, Bruce.Springsteen, KISS, Aero.smith, Rolling.Stones and stuff like that thanks to my older siblings. I have even attended more than my fair share of Iron.Maiden and Bon.Jovi concerts. (Which reminds me of another great performance, and only underscores how happy I am that they let the AI contestants play instruments now -- I can't believe it, but he might have been even better had he been allowed to play guitar!) But now I prefer country. I still listen to other genres, but mostly prefer country.

Anyway, something about Chris.Daughtry stuck with me. I think he just sounds so great. Which reminds me -- when I take my outing for today, I must find somewhere to go and buy his CD. :-)

I think I could spend about 3 months monkeying around on You.Tube and never run out of stuff to see. That is a clear indication of the sad, sad state of affairs in my house right now. Clearly, I need my family to come back from being out of town. And I need to get those damn peanut butter cookies out of my house. I hear the recycling truck coming down the street, I would run outside and give them the cookies except that I'm still in my freakin' pajamas. At 1pm. Wow.

'Twas the Night Before Transfer...

2008-04-17T07:32:00.001-07:00

I guess this is what you do when you have nothing but time to lounge around and think. You make up outrageously long poems about your IF journey. Hope you like it...

--------------------------------------------------------
'Twas the night before transfer and all through the land
Stim needles were quiet, just PIO was in hand

The meds were laid out on the counter with care
In hopes that the Baby Fairy soon would be there

The vials, the saline, the needles and syringes
When I think of it now, every cell in me cringes

We’d made it through stimming, through retrieval and the sorts
We’d lived in daily fear of those fertilization reports

5 eggs, 4 fertilized, 3 are still going strong
I want them all back in my uterus where they belong

CM, IUI, IVF and OPK
MF, ICSI, AH and SA

6-cell, 8-cell, A-grade, and B-grade
The numbers, the education, the memories will not soon fade

But, alas, I’ve said too much, let us start at the start
With a tale we all know about the joys of ART

The boy and the girl, they are smitten, then wed
They jump, full of excitement, into the marital bed

“Let’s make a baby!” they exclaim with their unbridled joy
“What shall we have?" they ask "A girl or a boy?”

Off come the shirts, and off come the pants
Let’s get right down to it, let’s do the Baby Dance!

A few months go by, but it’s not a big deal
This just means more “practice” which they approach with some zeal

After a year, it gets old, it’s not exciting anymore
Sex is no longer fun, it’s nearly a chore

Is there a problem? Who knows? Is the problem with me?
I guess we’ll find out if we seek an RE

“Let’s run some tests. Let’s see what is what.”
Before we start jamming hormones into my gut

SA, FSH, then cycle day 3
Clomid challenge, lining check, then the awful HSG

“It’s good news! Nothing’s wrong! But to help you guys try
Let’s do this neat thing, we like to call it IUI.”

It’s a toe in the water, it’s like a pre-dinner taster
Some people liken it to a nice, easy turkey baster

We decide to do it, we wait for Aunt Flo
Just to jack with our heads, she decides not to show

Could it be? Could it be? Is fate on our side?
Are we an urban legend? From infertiles must I hide?

It is true, we are shocked. Both shocked and relieved.
No IUI for us, we had naturally conceived!

They were short lived, our dreams, of those chubby little cheeks
We lost our miracle baby right around 8 weeks

That Christmas, it sucked, a D&C on New Year’s Eve
Instead of toasting, we stayed home to grieve

We picked up the pieces, we continued to try
But after months of no luck, we again talked IUI

So we tried a few pills, we gave up some sperm
It couldn’t be worse than eating the tequila worm

We gave lots of blood, we said “Cost be damned!”
We visited the nice lady with the neat dildo cam

We stimmed, we triggered, we wished for vacation
Instead we spend cash on an insemination

We were hopeful, we were anxious, we were even optimistic
We perused the aisles of Target for just the right kind of pee stick

As an added bonus, I guess just for shits and for grins
I shoved Prometrium up myself, and dreamed of having twins

Alas, it was negative, this cycle was a huge bust
We were sad, we were angry, but we brushed off the dust

“It will work! It will work! Be patient!” They'd say
So we plodded along, each day after day

IUI 1, IUI 2, IUI 3 all a bummer
Nary I drink I enjoyed through all of that summer

I guess we move on, I guess we pull out the “big guns”
Let’s try this IVF stuff, let’s dig up the funds

Because surely THAT will work, I mean it’s the Last Stop
It’s just the thing we need to get us over the top

More tests, more money, and an injection class
I’m starting to feel like my heart is made of blown glass

But we press on, we are brave, we know this is right
We will have a new baby to keep us up all the night

In a sea of emotion, I was tossed to and fro
No way could I have made it through without IRL friend Rho

We entered IVF with our eyes big and wide
Refusing to let our baby dreams fall off to the side

I remember feeling stunned, overwhelmed and confused
When I got the list of meds that they said would be used

Did they say, “They are evil! They’ll kill the real Leah!” ?
Hell no, they made them sound like a great panacea

“These drugs will help you, these drugs will all work!”
The crying jags, the burst blood vessels, all perk after perk

The needles, the needles, the needles they came
I grew to both love and hate all my drug friends by name

On baby aspirin! On Follistim! On Menopur and Ganirelix!
Make my follies grow big! Work your ovarian tricks!

On Lupron! On estrace! On progesterone in oil!
To make these nice follies, oh that labor and toil!

IVF #1 was exciting for sure
For the sadness that ailed us, it simply must be the cure!

Like a crazed mad scientist, I would stir them up in a pot
I drew the line when Kevin asked to be called Sir Mix-a-lot

Oh Lupron, you Devil, how you batted those lashes
I forgot to say thank you for those wicked hot flashes

Oh Menopur, you whore, you stung like a bitch
If wealth was measured in tears, I’d be considered quite rich

Then came the monitoring, the dance with the wand
I loved the RE’s nurses, we formed quite a bond

But even they, my new friends, couldn’t hide what was true
I was limping along, making only a follie or two

High FSH, poor responder, diminished ovarian reserve
All bad, all disappointing, threw us both for a curve

None was helped by that damn Lupron, we couldn’t have guessed
That it worked all too well, I was over-suppressed

IVF 1 was a bust, but at least we could try
To convert to our old friend, the useless IUI

So that’s what we did, though we knew to our core
What would be the outcome of IUI #4

In the midst of it all, while we’re crying in our cup
My best friend hits the jackpot, she gets herself all knocked up

Now I get to watch in despair as her belly grows and grows
As she frets about whether to buy baseballs or more bows

I am unfazed, I am determined, I will get success
I’d sell my soul for a baby, I am sad to confess

We try it again, this time a different protocol
And pray that my ovaries want to dance at the ball

It is better, but not great, although we do learn with glee
That we have made it to transfer, let’s put back all three!

In they go, now lie down, in your bed take a rest
Try to resist taking a pregnancy test

Wait for beta, poke my boobs, analyze every twinge and cramp
I wish I could say I handled the 2WW like a champ

But I didn’t, I sucked, I was a giant ball of stress
I was hormonal, I was cranky, I was a big bitchy mess

I’d pass the time reading books and watching the telly
I’d map out constellations in needle pricks on my belly

Then, I caved, it’s true, I’m a real pee stick junkie
I was pacing the floor like a poor caged zoo monkey

Holy shit! Can it be? Did it actually work!
I see a line! I see a line! Then I turned with a jerk.

Hey Kevin! Come quickly! Do you see what I see?
Did it work on the first try? Can this really, truly be?

A beta confirmed it. Was this the end of our trouble?
What’s my progesterone? What’s my HSG? Would it actually double?

It’s OUR time! Happy day! The Gods don’t hate us after all
Looks like we’ll have a new baby in the Fall

Then it all fell apart, like it seemed to always do
Four weeks later we spiraled down into miscarriage #2

I was sad, I was weepy, I was in a real funk
I was sick and was tired of this bullshit IF junk

I got on the web, started looking for support
Other chicks with IF, RPL and the sort

And what to my wondering eyes should be seen?
But the infamous Mel and her site Stirrup Queens!

I dove in full force, devouring blog after blog
I slowly but surely came out of my fog

I found JJ, so lovely, she was great, I had a hunch
Even without my own blog, I joined the Braces Bunch

The cards and the letters, the postcards and notes
We were all in this together, all in similar boats

I felt so much support, so much understanding and love
Surely this blogging thing was sent straight from above

I started my blog, and began IVF #2
Surely THAT would work, surely now we were due

Wash, rinse, repeat, the same old steps we did take
IVF 2 was a flop, a loser, a flake

I made it through sane, somehow didn’t get crazy
Some days were happy, some other days hazy

I read blogs, and I laughed, I cried and tried to mend
I learned of new words from my internet friends

Blilt, Va-Jay-Jay, and Hoohaahooterus
Then I found the holy grail, the Order of the Plastic Uterus

The group of local ladies, we laugh til we snort
I love them, I need them, I crave their support

Our posse wouldn’t exist, we wouldn’t gather to this day
Without the amazing efforts of the lovely LJ

At this time, I was crushed, tired of spreading my legs
Didn’t want to keep trying, started talking donor eggs

I found blogs of others, like Lara and Kami
Who helped me sort through my feelings of being hit by a whammy

In the end, it was Kevin -- he said “Just one more go?”
“With your eggs, it may work, you just never know!”

So we begged and we borrowed, we dug through the trash
We pilfered and bartered and came up with the cash

Once again, we changed protocols, we hoped this would be best
Would it give us an outcome that was different from the rest?

Well it did, I am proud and so happy to say
I am still in shock to this very same day

For those of you still down in the deep IF trenches
Who feel they are watching the Baby Game from the benches

Don’t despair, don’t lose faith, don’t give up that hope
Lean on me, lean on God, whatever helps you to cope

It is dark, it is cruel, it’s the epitome of unfair
The heartache, the sorrow, often too much to bear

But know you are loved, and know this is true
On the night before transfer, remember that I do so love you

Bedrest Day #1 (subtitle: First in a series of what will surely prove to be a lengthy collection of boring posts)

2008-04-15T17:27:00.000-07:00

Okay, so day 1 of bedrest wasn't too bad. I worked quite a lot from the comfortable confines of my couch. I prepared documentation, solved technical issues, ran conference calls, and actually got a fair amount accomplished.

The hours stretched on, but were punctuated by my exciting visits to the bathroom where I got to wee in a bedpan and then fill up a nifty ol' orange jug full of piss. That is one good time, let me tell you. Can't wait to deliver that to the lab tomorrow. I bet it will be just like Christmas for them.

Megan managed to leave the house today to show the new nanny where the duck pond is in our neighborhood. It made me sad to see her riding away down the street on her pink big girl bike in her pink princess helmet, knowing I couldn't go with her. But it truly won't be for all that long so I need to just get over myself.

I had my regular OB appointment this morning. Have I mentioned (oh, about a thousand times) how much I love my OB/GYN? I mean I have a serious crush on him. I know it's sorta sick, I don't care.

He did a biophysical profile on the baby (basically just a sonogram) and proclaimed everything to be "looking great." Heart looked good, pretend breathing was going on, fluid looked good, stuff like that. At one point, I said, "What in the world is that?" I'm skilled at reading sonograms but couldn't figure out what was going on. He said, "Them's boy parts." I was like, "Woah. Dang, he's quite the stud." I seriously still can't believe we're having a boy sometimes. Man oh man I hope he comes out healthy and doesn't up and die on us in the next couple of weeks. I might not be able to recover from that one.

The Doctor re-confirmed the bedrest sentencing, and answered some of my questions. Here's a typical exchange between the two of us:

Me: "So, what about sex?"
Doctor: "Um, well that depends. With who?"
Me: "Him." [pointing to Kevin who is trying not to look mortified]
Doctor: "Sure."
Me: "I mean, you should go ahead and tell him that I can't do any of the work, I'll need to just lie there and whatnot."
Doctor: "Would you like me to make a specific list of what you can and cannot do?"
Kevin: "NO. Please don't draw us any pictures, either."
Me: "Listen. Just because we didn't need to have actual sex to make this baby, doesn't mean we don't know what we are doing, you know."

Meanwhile, the idea of having sex is just ridiculous. It's the farthest thing from my mind. But I can already tell that I'm going to feel a little guilty about all the extra crap Kevin's going to be doing around the house and it's about the only reward I think I can follow through on at this point. So I figured I'd at least see if it's an option.

Anyway, all of my regular OB appointments have been cancelled. They've now been converted to weekly non-stress tests. The level of protein in my urine didn't go up between yesterday and today, but the real results will be given by my vat o' piss to be donated in the morning.

Thank you so much to all of you who have stopped by to offer your kind words, visits, and other things. In a couple of weeks when this is really, really, really old, I'll convince any and all Order of the Plastic Uterus babes to come to my house as quickly as possible to relieve the boredom. Maybe I'll make up a bat signal to shine in the sky. It will be shaped like a couch cushion with a GIANT indent in it...

Ugh

2008-04-14T17:55:00.001-07:00

You know how I just said in my post below from this morning that I needed to blog more? Looks like I'm going to have lots of time to do just that. Seeing as how I'm now offically on bedrest.

Good grief, I'm still in shock and can't believe it. I guess when you have a blood pressure reading of 170/100 and protein in your urine, it makes people a little on edge... Luckily I'm just shy of 3 weeks away from full-term (37 weeks), so hopefully I don't languish here too long.

The toughest thing, for sure, will be getting my wildly overactive 3 year old to understand why I can't do everything that I used to do. Between when I got home and when she went to bed, a whopping 5 hours elapsed -- but that didn't stop me from needing to explain and re-explain the concept to her at least a dozen times. Should be interesting.

Random Thoughts in a Way-Too-Long Post

2008-04-14T05:56:00.000-07:00

I forget that so much time goes by between posts. Maybe because I am composing posts in my head all day long (I understand what you mean, Kami), and I am truly turning into my Mother ("I called you, why didn't you call me back?" "Um, no, you didn't call me, Mom." "Well, I thought about it. Why didn't you call me back?") and have blurred the line between what happens in my mind versus what happens in real life. That's some scary shit, I tell you.

Here are all the random things I've been meaning to blog about:

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I missed the gathering of The Order of the Plastic Uterus yesterday. I'm SO bummed! Kevin got called into work and I had no one to watch Megan. As usual, it sounds like they had a great time and I desperately missed seeing them.

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Go give lots of lucky vibes to Rho. In her latest IVF, yesterday's retrieval hauled in 17 eggs! Woot!! We are still waiting (im)patiently for the fert report but I'm so excited, I'm practically vibrating.

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I'm trying to finish everything up at work (c-section is 5 weeks from today), and it's stressing me out. I'm turning it over to a wildly capable, competent friend of mine (Laurie), but it's still just a lot of work to put everything in order for anyone else to step in and take over. I'm looking forward to the break, though, as there's a fair amount of drama at work right now.

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Megan's sibling class at the hospital was on Saturday. She loved it! She is obsessed with babies (both real and in the doll form) so she's actually pretty experienced with holding them and attempting to change diapers. We mostly went so that someone other than her parents could tell her the normal stuff: wash your hands before touching the baby, don't pick the baby up, don't wake the baby up, etc. Plus she's had 1,001 questions about exactly what it will be like when I'm in the hospital. So it was nice she could see the room I'd be staying in, and where the snacks were located (she smuggled out a graham cracker, I think that was the highlight of the entire day), where the bathroom was, basics like that. She hasn't asked her customary daily zillion questions about my hospital stay since then, so maybe it satisfied her curiosity for a little while.

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Megan and Kevin will be out of town this weekend. Without me! This will be the first time she's ever been away from me for more than 1 night. And they'll be in Chicago!! Kevin's cousin's wedding is this weekend, as well as a bonus family reunion. But I'm like a lumbering whale rolling about on the beach most of the time so the idea of hauling it through a couple of airports and through all the ensuing festivies was probably pushing it too far. Plus, I've started swelling pretty badly by nightfall (full-on pitting edema, it's a fun party trick), and pant like a dog trapped in a sauna at times, so my OB recommended that I don't go. Instead, I'll stay home and prep for the baby.

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Speaking of that, we're sort of ready. Truthfully, all you really need is place for the baby to sleep, some onesies, and a carseat to bring them home. We have both of those, so the rest is just gravy. However, washing some clothes, washing the bedding, washing the carseat cover, and having a few burpcloths handy is a good idea too. I'll tackle that this weekend.

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My friend Kelly has been browbeating me for over a month about a shower. I've patiently explained that I don't want a shower, I don't believe in showers for subsequent babies (not that there's anything wrong with them, we just don't need anything), and at this point whatever items people give us simply translate into more shit we need to find a place for in our house. (Except, of course the exquisite blanket that JJ made and the adorable stuff that Rho gave me.) Anyway, she decided that she'd throw a "sprinkle" (she reasoned that it is smaller than a "shower"). I agreed only if very, very few people came, if it was clear that they were not to bring any gifts, and if we had yummy food. I'm just looking for an excuse to get together with my girlfriends and enjoy some party food. It's set for May 3rd and I think it will be a lot of fun.

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I'm a hormonal wreck. I know it's to be expected -- there's the pregnancy hormones, there's the sleep deprivation (did I mention I can only "sleep" sitting up in the glider these days? notice that I put the verb "sleep" in quotes since it's a joke to call it that?), there's the looming reality of a baby coming into the house, there's the looming reality of having an actual END to this trying-to-have-children nightmare of IF, there's the exhausting behavior of my highly spirited 3 year old, there's the stress of finishing stuff up at work, there's the stress of a horrific revalation about an ex-boyfriend (explained below), yada yada yada. I cry at everything and nothing. I kept crying during Megan's class at the hospital because the kids were so damn cute. I tried to play it off like I had allergies or something, but I'm just a giant doofus. (Did anyone else just have the line "so you try to play it off like you think you can by sayin that you're full and then your friend says momma he's just being polite he aint finished uh uh that's bull" run through their heads? Man, I love that song!)

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I was married way-back-when to a perfectly nice guy named Sean for 6 years. After we broke up, I dated a flaming jackass named Steve (ever after referred to as Evil Steve) for almost 2 years. Then I dated only myself for a year and a half. Then I dated anyone who had a pulse for a while. Then, I found a nice guy. His name was Richard. After a year of dating, we moved in together. Planning for the move-in, we hit snag #1. His credit royally sucked. Interesting for someone who was 34 at the time and seemed pretty normal. Snag #2 was that we planned to get engaged prior to moving in together, but it turns out he couldn't afford a ring. I knew he made decent $ so I wasn't sure what was going on. We went ahead and moved in together, and within a couple of weeks he proposed (his parents paid for the ring apparently). Unfortunately, on the 2nd night of us living together, I made the first of a series of shocking discoveries that eventually led me to the conclusion that he was a highly-functioning alcoholic. I truly had no idea. Anyway, the ensuing story is pretty interesting (including his insane reasoning for why he wasn't an alcoholic, my life changing experience with Al.Anon, his refusal to move out of my townhouse for months and months after I broke it off, etc.) but not worth repeating here. He finally agreed to go into rehab -- his first trip there ever -- for a 21 day program. He walked out after 4 days, proclaiming himself "cured" and "not really an alcoholic anyway" (neveryoumind the 4 bottles of wine he drank each night and other craziness). His parents were there to catch him whenever he fell, as they'd been doing for over a decade. Slapped in the face by such blatent enabling behavior, I realized he was never going to change and cut off all communication with him entirely. This was about 8 or 9 years ago. It seems he's been in rehab a few more times since then, seemingly with little success. How do I know this? Fast forward to last month when I learned that he murdered his parents. Yes, you read that correctly. They were in a fight about making him go back to rehab and he shot them dead in their own home. The rest of the story is crazy (he was caught trying to cross into Canada, no one even knew his parents had been dead for almost 5 days, but he confessed) and here's hoping he stays locked up forever. Mostly I've been crying for his parents who are (were) incredibly sweet, wonderful people. I've also been crying for his uncle who is my sister's neighbor (that's how I met Richard). I've also been crying for myself because, well, I'm finally letting go of all the guilt I carried around for "quitting" and "giving up on him" so quickly. To say I made the right choice is an understatement.

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Okay, I can't end on that somber note. Instead, I'll leave you with some jokes:

Confucius Says: If you don't succeed, re-define success.
What’s worse than finding a worm in your apple? Finding half a worm.
Why did Dorothy get lost in Oz? She had three men giving her directions.
Q: What do you call a laughing motorcycle? A: A Yamahahaha
Q. What do you call a fish with no eye? A. A fsh
Did you know my wife went to a self-help group for compulsive talkers? It’s called On and On Anon.
The cheapest way to have your family tree traced is to run for a public office.
What is the difference between ignorance, apathy, and ambivalence? I don’t know and I don’t care one way or the other.

I second that Bitch

2008-04-08T19:44:00.000-07:00

Go read Mel's post. Actually, it's really the comments that are the treasure trove.

If you are easily offended or don't enjoy what Mel has coined LSOs (Lovingly-Spoken Obscenities), then perhaps you shouldn't read it after all. But if you think "skank," "fuckstick," "whore," and "fucknut" are great things to call your friends and favorite relatives, then this post and it's ensuing comments are right up your alley.

I have yet to find someone to top Tammy's offering, it made me laugh out loud.

One is Silver, and the Other Gold (updated)

2008-03-29T18:01:00.001-07:00

Anyone else remember that song? I know it from Girl.Scouts. I'm pretty sure it goes...

Make new friends
But keep the old
One is silver
And the other gold

I still cannot believe the bond I feel that I've formed with so many of you bloggers. It's easy to understand the ones that I've met IRL, but there are so many of you that I will probably never, ever meet and yet I care so deeply for you. It's amazing.

Tomorrow I will write a post and upload a picture of the blanket that JJ made for Spidey. I'm still so touched, so moved, so completely overwhelmed by it that I'm having trouble finding the right words that will do it justice (both the gesture and the blanket itself). I wonder sometimes if JJ isn't even real... if I hadn't met her in person, I'd swear that she was an imaginary friend I've made up.

While I try to stop crying long enough to get that picture of JJ's blanket, I thought I'd give a quick update on my other bloggy friends. If you already know these lovely ladies, then their updates are not all that new. But if you don't know them, please pick a couple of them and drop by their blogs -- to offer congratulations, to provide support, or to provide that virtual shoulder to cry on.

After making this giant list, I realized I should split it into sections so that you could skip over the "Yippee, they just had a baby!" section if you are in a bad place, as well as the "Knocked up" section too. Feel free to read all the updates, just the ones for folks in the same station as you, or whatever combination you wish. Just please visit someone new and provide a little support or good cheer...

In the 2WW

Lara is awaiting her beta on Monday after deFET #4. She just got up the nerve to POAS and didn't get the result she was hoping for, so head over and offer some support while she waits.

Becks is in a 2WW after transferring 2 embies during IVF/ICSI #4 (I think it's #4, forgive me if I'm wrong, Becks).

Imogen just transferred 2 gorgeous embies (named Snugglepot and Cuddlepie) on Easter Sunday. Go wish her luck!

LJ is 3dp3dt and in the 2WW for IVF #3. I swear that I think I want her to get pregnant more than I wanted to get pregnant myself. (Okay, maybe I want Rho to get pregnant this badly too. And Sunny too. And JJ. And Becky. And Lara. And Bean. Shit, what am I doing? There are too many to list...)

Preparing for a cycle

Sunny. Where do I begin with Sunny? In the midst of her first IVF, she was blindsided with her Mother's cancer diagnosis. After deciding not to completely cancel her cycle as it was so close to retrieval, they pushed ahead. Now they have 6 embies frozen (I love that she calls them "babypops") and will begin the FET process once she returns home from being with her family.

My buddy and IRL friend Rho is finishing up her last week of BCPs in preparation for IVF #3. Go over and cheer her on!

Bean, who I adore, is about to begin IVF #5. At the moment, AF is torturing her so head over and tell her a few jokes to distract her.

I got to meet Jendeis at the last TOOTPU gathering and she is damn spunky. I like that in a blogger! Fresh off her HSG, she's gearing up for what will prove to be a tricky SA procedure. Wish her luck, and offer some general good vibes as she's got a whole heckuvalot of stuff going on right now.

Becky is gearing up for her first IVF with retrieval and transfer planned for near the end of April. Go over and share your IVF advice with her!

Is there anyone on Earth nicer than JJ? She and Mook are talking about their next steps, so go lend some support while she sorts through her emotions. (And, yes, I can vouch for the fact that she is as sweet and supportive as her comments lead you to believe.)

Mands is considering when to do her FET. Perhaps this Summer? Head on over and say a few kind words.

Currently Gestating

Farah is almost 27 weeks along and doing great! Since she is one of the nicest, sweetest bloggers out there, we will all be excited when Mini Vann makes his debut.

Jackie is about 37 weeks along, so any day now...

Delenn is almost 36 weeks along, anticipating Willow's arrival.

Cibele is about 36 weeks along and on bedrest awaiting Lyla's arrival. -- UPDATE: Lyla is here!

Caro is about 37 weeks along and will meet Stumpy soon.

Gabby is about 30 weeks along and hasn't posted in a while so perhaps this will shame her into an update on Wyatt Ethan.

Erin, my cycle sister this time, is kicking ass and taking names seemingly sailing through to her 32nd week with the WonderTwins.

Meghan is 16 weeks along and lookin' fiiiiine.

Christina is almost 17 weeks along and recently wrote a post about projectile puking on her windshield while driving. I'm not sure I was supposed to laugh as hard as I did, but maybe it was the emoticon that made me do it.

Kami is 29 weeks along and never, ever ceases to amazing me with the raw emotion and power of her writing.

CE is almost 38 weeks along and finally, finally posted an update. I'm so happy to hear things are going well with her pregnancy.

In and Out of Luck is about 28 weeks along and, after a brief scare and visit to the pediatric cardiologist, is doing great.

Grad3 is about 35 weeks along and seems to be growing a SuperBaby. Here's hoping her baby girl decides to stop overachieving and causing everyone to make such a fuss.

Lea Bee is almost 11 weeks along and, despite some stress and worries about the discontinuation of her meds, is doing great.

Deanna is almost 12 weeks along and her posts about buying maternity clothes are right on the money for anyone who has ever been in disbelief about the fact that you even need maternity clothes in the first place.

Kristen is over 21 weeks along and we simply cannot wait to meet her son Sunshine (obviously that's his stage name).

After a tragic loss of her son Zach at 20 weeks, Ann is 13 weeks along with Zach's sibling and anxiously awaiting the anatomy scan on April 11th.

Waiting Amy is over 18 weeks along with twins. The anatomy scan is Monday, so go send some good vibes!

Portia, my over-the-hill-ovary partner, is almost 9 weeks along. Yay!

Schatzi is almost 10 weeks along with quintuplets. Yes, you read that right. Quints. Including a set of identical twins. It's mind boggling, as are all of the twists and turns that this pregnancy has taken thus far already. Head over to offer up good vibes!

Recently Delivered

Artblog just welcomed her son Dan to the world. Yay!

H2H welcomed her baby girl on February 16th.

Kate welcomed baby Luke on February 25th.

Shelby (and Nathan and Celia) welcomed Seth into their family on February 19th.

Larisa was thrilled to welcome Elodie on January 7th after a stress-filled pregnancy.

Serenity welcomed Owen Philip on March 17th.

Sticky Bun welcomed the Stickes on March 21st.

Carey and Steph welcomed Bennett and Kate yesterday!

Alexa probably needs no introduction as you probably have to live under a rock not to know about her blog (ditto for Mel). However, hop over to see Alexa and check on Simone who was born on February 8th. We still miss her brother Ames terribly.

Adopting

My Reality is embarking on the adoption journey. Please go over and lend some support.

Chris has recently begun the adoption process. Head over and say some wonderful things!

Other

I have no idea what's new with DMarie as she hasn't posted in nearly 2 months and has remained completely silent during all of the TOOTPU email traffic. I hope all is well and that she'll provide an update soon.

Rachel is awaiting another dIUI cycle and is using this opportunity to aim for a little DIY success. Go wish her luck!

After 2 devastating losses, Carlynn is investigating surrogacy. Please go over and lend a friendly ear.

Mel, who is the center of the IF blog universe, is suffering from comment withdrawal this week. Please go leave some comments and give her that warm and fuzzy feeling she so deserves!

If you've never checked out Pamela Jeanne's blog or Karen's blog, you should do so. But make yourself a cup of coffee because once you start reading, you'll be there a while. These women can write. Seriously write.

Karen's triplets are 6 months old now and doing well. That's not to say the last 6 months (or the 6 months prior to that) were without their fair share of stress and drama...

After their devastating loss of their 3 girls Syliva, Claire and Lucy on February 1st, ME announced she was going password protected and then hasn't posted in about 6 weeks. Certainly no one can blame her, but I still think about her constantly and pray she is healing.

Babystep just endured a BFN from IVF #2. It's so. damn. unfair.

Sharah and her husband recently decided not to pursue further treatments. She still writes some damn fine posts, is active in WAITT, and is clearly a good friend to one of my favoritest bloggers so by extension, I love her too.

Baby Blues is on a break and currently enjoying travel adventures that make me insanely jealous!

Tam is currently trying with homeopathy and acupuncture. For numerous reasons, this month's visit from AF was a particularly shitty one. So if you have the password to her blog, please head over and offer some words of encouragement.

Wow. My link finger is dang tired.

No News is Good News

2008-03-26T10:19:00.001-07:00

Nothing new to report here. Lots of things going on with my blog buddies -- plenty of impending births, plus a few that are already here. Also, dear LJ is in the dreaded 2ww after transferring 5 kick ass embies. Wahoo! Go over and offer up some good vibes.

Random things:

My OB appt last week was uneventful. Gained 2 lbs in 2 weeks so I guess that's okay.
Thanks to the magic of Pri.losec, the heartburn is nearly under control.
Over a week ago, the lovely ladies of TOOTPU got together and it was wonderful to see everyone. (Plus I scored some of that amazing toffee with sea salt from Mel!)
Speaking of scoring, I managed to get some free 4D ultrasound pics from the peri here at my work. We were in a mtg together and he said, "C'mon down right now, we'll take a look." Neato pictures, I'll post one over the weekend once I unearth the scanner from the pile of junk in our office that's hiding it.
NannyGate '08 continues. The one that we finally found turns out to be pretty darn shitty. So I'm in the process of looking for a new one. Heavy, heavy sigh.

I think that's it. Will update again when there's something useful to say.

Sunny

2008-03-21T04:56:00.000-07:00

Please go over and visit Sunny. She got some tragic news about her Mother and could use a show of love and support right now. I can't seem to stop crying about it, even a day after reading it. Life is so. freaking. unfair.

For those of you who haven't had the distinct pleasure of getting to know Sunny IRL, I can't begin to tell you what you are missing. I've got a heavy heart for my friend.

Fat. Just plain fat.

2008-03-15T20:09:00.001-07:00

Remember all those earlier posts about how I managed to avoid telling people I was pregnant for so long? How I am still measuring small by a week or so? How, up until even last week, people were still surprised to find out I was pregnant?

Ha. That makes me snort out loud with laughter.

I am fat. I mean gross fat. My belly isn't too bad. In fact, when I looked in the mirror last night, I could see my normal torso with a perfectly defined outline of where my uterus is. It's the rest of me that is fat.

I knew I started out this pregnancy heavier than with Megan. I knew that I looked like a cow in pictures (because I have a reverse distorted body image where I *think* I look thinner than I actually am). I knew I had to make a conscious effort to stretch out my double chin if I was stupid enough to get near a camera.

Nothing prepared me for today. I rarely ask for pictures to be taken of myself, but I asked someone to take a picture of me, Kevin and Megan today when we were all hanging out in the back yard. I got my hair cut on Monday -- cut over 9 inches off (to donate) -- and I swear I thought it somehow made my giant, pudgy face look thinner. How wrong I was.

My friend took our picture and I distinctly remember working hard to do my giraffe thing and stick my chin out to lengthen the blob that is my neck. Well, let me tell you what. When I transferred the picture from our camera to the computer, I gasped out loud. I look freakish. Truly, just God-awful.

I suppose there is nothing much I can do about it now. I would like to say that I am going to swear off all eating until I deliver, but that's just stupid. Mostly because that doesn't really make for a healthy Mom or healthy baby. But also because I am still in a constant state of either nausea or heartburn and the only thing (other than Zan.tac) that makes a dent is food.

So I graze. I try to be good and make healthy choices. I still have gained less than 20 lbs (which is okay at 30 weeks along), but I'm pretty sure that 90% of that weight is between my shoulders and my nose.

I feel so gross about myself right now that I struggled to leave the house today. I finally managed to make it out to Tar.get and I sincerely hoped that people would focus on my belly instead of my giant face which resembles a Macy.s Thanksgiving Day Parade float.* I even wore a shirt that was a little clingy (which I *never* do) to emphasize my belly in a diversionary tactic.

What could top the whole experience off? When my sister walked through the door this morning. Keep in mind that she knows I struggle with my weight. Also keep in mind that she and I rarely talk about pregnancy stuff because as a former IF victim and ART veteran who experienced 2 heartbreaking early miscarriages, she just doesn't get into pregnancy talk. Which is fine by me.

Anyway, she walked through the door this morning to the festivities and just about yelled, "WOW." She had a huge grin on her face, so I immediately thought, "Yay! I'm going to get some positive feedback about my hair!!" Instead she said -- very loud, which is unlike her -- "You are SO PREGNANT." It came out sounding something like, "You should be starring in your own show at Sea.World since you are so goddamn fat." There were about 8 other people here at the time and I swear you could hear a pin drop.

I was truthfully more bummed that I didn't score a hair compliment. But after I gazed at the FatFace picture later in the day, that episode just underscored how gross I really look. Meanwhile, my sister was so devastated that she apologized about 98 times while she was here and even called on her way home to apologize again. I really wasn't offended, and the fact that she acknowledged the pregnancy at all is actually a compliment.

So there is clearly no point to this post. Except to say that I am fat. Gross and fat. And I will not, under any circumstances, allow one more picture to be taken of me until well after I deliver and shed about 2,000 lbs. I just hope my fellow members of TOOTPU don't gasp, point, stare and snicker when they see me tomorrow at our monthly get together. I'll be the one drinking water while eating plain iceberg lettuce and lemon slices for lunch. Ugh.

* Just to be clear -- I'm not swollen anywhere else, so this isn't a medical condition. No preeclampsia or high blood pressure or other such acceptable reason for swelling. Just plain ol' fat.

IRL Support & Kinship from TOOTPU

2008-03-10T20:17:00.000-07:00

If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you know that I am wildly fortunate to have a local support network of SQs who meet once a month (more or less). Recently we decided to change our name from DC Metro Stirrup Queens to The Order of the Plastic Ute.

Back in January, I wrote a post about our gathering at Lindsay's house. There were 12 of us there and it was a wonderfully fantastic time. I finally got around to asking Lindsay and Mel for the pictures of the evening, and so I wanted to share them with you.

First, here is the gang of lovely, lovely women... (yes, we actually broke down and had "Hi! My name is..." nametags on for the new folks)

Next, here is our namesake, The Plastic Ute enjoying a snooze by the Christmas tree...

To learn who is in the group picture (although it's in no particular order), see my previous post about the evening. I will admit to snickering when I realized tonight that the acronym for our new name is TOOTPU. Tell me you didn't just laugh too.

We are getting together this Sunday for lunch in Tyson's Corner. (Actually, it's a late lunch at 1:30.) If you are in the area, or want to come into the area, please join us! Email me, leave a comment, or otherwise contact anyone in the group to let us know you are interested. The more the merrier!

Blubbering Mess

2008-03-10T05:59:00.000-07:00

I wanted to write a profound, moving post about how terribly I feel for Natalie and Den. But it dissolved into a paranoid, delusional rant filled with non-stop, over-the-top DBTs. So I deleted it. But then I read Serenity's post. And that's it. That's exactly what I wanted to say. Instead of me just outright stealing her entire post, I'll provide a link so you can read it. Although she's farther along than me, she expressed each and every emotion I've been feeling since I read the news. Even the part about crying so much that my eyes burn.

I've also spent a considerable amount of time this weekend crying over my friend Rho's BFN. I knew I was waaaaay too invested in her cycle this time (as I am every time, I admit), but I truly, truly, truly thought this was The One for them. I am still stunned, wanting to believe it's just faulty tests. I'm crushed, and I've cried at least 10 times about it.

Can you say "blubbering mess?" Poor Kevin has spent the entire weekend with an incredibly hormonal wife and a cranky toddler with Vacation Hangover. It's okay, he's up for the challenge.

I had intended to write a post this weekend about Megan's visit to the Easter Bunny. Or the conversation I had with a fellow Stirrup Queen (a complete stranger) that hopefully saved her some lonliness by introducing her to the Magical World of IF Blogging and all the support provided therein.

But those can wait. For now, I am too deep in despair about Rho's BFN and Nat and Den's tragedy to be able to focus on anything happy.

The World's Suckiest Blogger

2008-03-05T21:09:00.001-08:00

I used to be a fairly good blogger . . . I posted often, I had interesting things to say, and occasionally I was pretty funny (at least I thought so). Now, I feel like I don't have jack shit to say.

We were just on vacation in Florida for a week. It was a blast. By coincidence, my BF Kelly was there with her husband and daughters too so we met up on Saturday. We just hung out at the pool where Kevin, Megan and I were staying and had a good time.

There were 9 women at the pool and 5 of them were visibly pregnant. I am deranged, because this is how one of our conversations went:

Me: "Good grief, look at all these pregnant women. What is the deal?"
Kelly: "Yeah, there certainly are a lot of them."
Me (sneering): "And they all have at least 1 kid already, some have even more. I bet they just pop them out like Pez dispensers. It's not fair."
Kelly: "Um, Leah? You do realize that you are pregnant too, don't you?"
Me: "Oh. Yeah. I guess I still have a hard time checking my bitterness at the door."

It's so true. Unless I know -- for a FACT -- that the pregnant woman I'm looking at had some sort of trouble conceiving, I find myself needing to work hard at not loathing her. That is simply not right. I've asked numerous friends who also struggled with fertility treatments (but have since either completed their families or made other choices), and while I'm told it gets better, it never goes away. Great. So now I've got THAT going for me.

I mean, why should I be mad that Angelina.Jolie is pregnant again? I don't know either, but I am. It seems like she just says, "Hmm, Brad, honey? Think this is a good time to have another baby?" And he must say, "Sure. Let's go for it. Take your clothes off so I can ravage your skeletal frame." (Okay, he probably doesn't say that.) Then, wham, bam, thank you mam she's knocked up with a BFP 2 weeks later. Grrrrr.

Work sucks right now. I'm killing myself to get 2 projects done by the end of the fiscal year and 1 of them simply isn't going to happen. That makes me crazy because we've all busted our asses on it, but it's out of our control.

Vacation was great. When Kevin took Megan to school today, her teachers asked what she did in Florida. Do you think she said, "I went to Disney! I saw Mickey! I had breakfast with the Princesses! I went to MGM! I rode in a glass bottom boat!" Nope. None of that. She said, "I fell into the pool and my Mommy had to jump in with her clothes on to save me." She's a nut. While that is true, is isn't quite as dramatic or traumatic as she's making it sound.

Nothing exciting to report regarding Spidey. I'm coming up on 29 weeks which is exciting because it means I'll only have 10 weeks to go. Sleeping is hilarious, the heartburn is getting really old, and I feel like I'm about to split open like a watermelon dropped from a tall apartment building. That's just stupid because I'm not going to get any smaller so I need to suck it up. I've got 1,000 other little things I could complain about, but all in all it's going well.

I have my glucose tolerance test in the morning. I failed the first one with Megan, and I'm a complete sugar junkie, so I fully expect to fail it this time. Hopefully I don't fail the 3 hour one, though. (I was borderline with Megan.) After having watched what Shelby had to endure thanks to GD, I'm not too hip on getting that diagnosis. But if I do, I will figure out how to make it work and keep it under control.

Don't forget to stop by and send some love to my buddy Rho. She transferred 3 embryos over the weekend and is in the dreaded 2WW. Thankfully, she's a POAS junkie like me so we'll get some confirmation soon that it worked. (I feel unnaturally positive about her cycle this time!)

Okay, after re-reading this post, it's got a negative vibe to it. Not sure why since I'm not upset about anything. Perhaps it's because it's 12:30am and I should really be in bed? Yes, I'm sure that's part of it. So, off to bed with me. I'm working on one of my posts with a zillion links for my blog buddies. There's so much going on with everyone right now, I'd love for you guys to swing by a few new blogs and spread some of our supportive lovin' around. :-)

Good luck with your trigger finger

2008-02-24T21:09:00.001-08:00

Please go over and send lots of positive vibes to my dear friend Rho. She triggered tonight for her latest IVF. Retrieval is on Tuesday morning.

Please, oh please, oh please let this be the one for her and S!

Some Good News

2008-02-20T04:52:00.001-08:00

Now, for some good news...

Please head over and congratulate Shelby on the birth of her beautiful baby boy!

Say Cheese

2008-02-18T19:16:00.000-08:00

We went to see the Perinatologist again today to check my low-lying placenta. Thankfully, although it is still low, it has moved far enough away from my cervix that they pronounced me "in the clear." Whew.

We got some new pictures. They aren't as good as the ones we have of Megan, but are cute nonetheless. Partially that's because Megan's pictures (which are below Spidey's) were taken at 30 weeks, and then again at 36w1d whereas Spidey's today was at 26w1d. Also, it's because he just wasn't feeling photogenic and therefore wasn't as cooperative as Megan proved to be.

Here is a picture of his face:

And, in a feat you will never see an adult pull off (except, perhaps, in Cirque Du Soleil), here he is in an exaggerated punt. That's his leg on the left side (foot on top), the umbilical cord in between, and then his head on the right. Really, all I can think to say is "ow." Nothing about this picture looks comfortable...

For comparison's sake, here is a picture of Megan at 30 weeks. For those of you that have met me in person, you'll probably recognize that face since she is the spitting image of me (and already was in 30w in the womb!).

Lastly, here is just a nice picture of Megan at 36w1d. No less than 3 of the OBs at my doctor's office were convinced she was HUGE and there was no way they should let me go to term. They were worried that she was getting too big and that she'd get stuck, or I'd need a c-section or other stuff like that. They sent me to the Perinatologist who proclaimed her over 7 lbs at 36 weeks gestation. This put her on track for a birthweight of 9 lbs or more. So, how much did she weigh at birth, you ask? A whopping 6 lbs 15 ozs. Just goes to show you that sonograms are much more of an art than a science. Anyway, here is the picture:

Prayers Please

2008-02-18T11:30:00.000-08:00

My IRL friend Lea (not an infertile, doesn't have a blog) just experienced a horrible tragedy. She and I used to work together, but I've primarly kept up with her pregnancy through Rho who is much better friends with Lea.

Lea just lost her baby at 34 weeks and had some very serious health issues herself -- so much so that she needed to be transferred from her hospital to the local Shock Trauma Center. It turns out that she had acute fatty liver (AFLP). I didn't know anything about this until I heard about Lea's tragedy, and apparently it's very rare, but that makes it no less devastating.

Please pray for Lea's continued recovery, pray for her baby boy to rest in peace, and pray for her family to make it through this incredibly difficult, horrible time.

Freight train or happy ending?

2008-02-11T21:47:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I started talking about how I felt simultaneously ready and not ready for Spidey to come along. Here is where I elaborate on it. Once again, this post has nothing whatsoever to do with IF, so if you don't feel like reading a pregnant chick's rambling about preparing for the baby to arrive, then you should skip this one too.

On one hand, I am ready. I mean READY. Totally, completely and utterly ready to be done. Done with babymaking entirely. But also done with being pregnant. It's just not fun. Beyond the physical discomfort, there's the ever-present terror that keeps me convinced Spidey is going to simply die inside there and I won't know until it's too late. I'm ready to meet Spidey, to see what he looks like, to feel him safe in my arms.

But on the other hand, I am truly not ready. I really enjoy having Megan all to myself, not having to juggle attention between children. I enjoy that Megan is basically self-sufficient and can feed, dress, undress, get in/out of the car, walk, talk, and go potty by herself. She more or less sleeps all night and has a great routine going on. I think that I can imagine what a giant change it's going to be to our life as we know it now, but I can't possibly understand what it truly means until Spidey is here.

The room isn't ready, but it could be quickly enough. We moved Megan's crib in there when she graduated to a toddler bed and just never took it out. I need to wash the new bedding, but otherwise it's ready to go. We don't have a dresser/changing table but could either get one or make due without for a while. We've got diapers (handed down to us by our friends who recently had babies), clothes (mostly hand-me-downs which are my favorites), a car seat, a stroller, infant toys, etc.

I always joked about how Megan could have slept in a dresser drawer if she came before we were "ready." But it's true. Newborns really don't need all that much except a place to sleep, a car seat, some clothes and a boob (or bottle/formula). We've got all that and more.

So why do I feel so unprepared? Is it because I fear the horrible, dark, bleak days and nights that we endured with Megan? She was a very difficult baby who did lots of crying, very little sleeping (until 7 months), and was only a moderately successful eater (until 6 weeks when I gave up the SNS and nipple.shield and nearly gave up breastfeeding altogether). However, I was woefully unprepared for how to handle a baby.

Truly, I sucked at it. Normally, I am an incredibly capable, organized, efficient, confident person. But when Megan was a baby, I completely disintegrated. Partially, I think it was the fact that I had some retained placenta which really jacked with my hormones. It is a point of debate whether I truly had post partum depression or it was the retained placenta + lack of any sleep at all whatsoever. Either way, I was a wreck. I felt noticeably better after going on Zol.oft, but still remained a bit of a neurotic mess.

I know I won't be that bad again. For one, I'll go back on Zol.oft around 37 weeks. Also, I won't have the time to sit around and obsess about every little thing like I did with Megan. But still... having a teeny tiny person completely dependent upon me for every little thing is daunting. No routine (at the very beginning), no sleep, and all the other junk that goes along with it is just so not fun. The disgusting bleeding, the c-section recovery, the hospital stay...

But it's all worth it. The bottom line is that -- God willing -- Spidey will be here in 14 weeks and I'd damn sight better get ready. More so emotionally than logistically. So wish me luck, or just go ahead and tell me I'm being a jackass whiner about the whole thing.

If it goes according to plan, my wish will have come true. It may have taken much longer, much more heartache, and much more money than I could have ever imagined, but I will have arrived at my dream . . . a wonderful husband and 2 healthy kids. I can slam the door shut on fertility clinics, BCPs, counting cycle days, daily bloodwork, dildocams, Lu.pron, Gani.relix, stims, retrievals, fertilization reports, embryo growth updates, transfers, 2WWs, betas, heartbeat checks, graduations, nuchal.translucency tests, and on and on . . . you get the point. I will be done. D. O. N. E.

Will this make me a better blogger? Probably not. It will make me boring. But hopefully it will make me a better supporter and commenter since I'll be able to focus more on my friends and less on my own personal drama.

Up until now, I haven't really considered that it might work out. That I would be able to put all of that shit behind me. I will never forget it, the pain and the disappointment and the fear and the crushing sadness of the years of trying and the BFNs and the miscarriages. But I won't have to personally endure it anymore on a daily basis.

It takes my breath away to think of this as a possibility, and it also makes me scared. I don't want to think like this yet, it's still too soon. Way too much could happen and I can't go getting cocky or confident. So instead I feel like I can sort of see the light at the end of the tunnel. As always, I'm hoping it's a signal of resolution, and not just a freight train bearing down on me.

Pregnancy-Induced Stupidity

2008-02-11T21:13:00.000-08:00

This post is terribly boring. It also has very little to do with IF. So if you don't want to read about my OB appointment and a ridiculous epiphany I had regarding the actual delivery of a baby, then you should skip this post. You know that I won't mind one bit.

I had another OB appointment today. Nothing exciting, I just peed in a cup, got weighed, and had my blood pressure taken. I complained relentlessly about my heartburn (I'm now approaching 300mg of Zan.tac a day) and my newly-acquired inability to sleep (thanks to uncomfortable back, legs, etc. -- not due to run-of-the-mill insomnia). The Doc measured my fundal height with the nifty paper tape measure and listened to Spidey's heartbeat. All in all, pretty uneventful.

As I was checking out, I noticed some writing on my paper. It said 25 +4 + 14. I asked what the heck that was. He explained that the 25 was because I'm 25 weeks along. The +4 is because I put on 4 lbs since my last appointment. The +14 is because I've put on 14 lbs total. I cringed and started beating myself about the head and shoulders when he said this. I worked so hard to keep my weight gain low because I had started out about 15 lbs too heavy to begin with! But last week I lost my mind and ate about 673,984 donut holes in one day. Plus I've been hitting the ice cream pretty hard at night. With the nausea and vomiting mostly under control, I've been able to eat more. And, obviously, I have been.

Anyway, when I started pissing and moaning about my weight gain, the Doc said, "Are you kidding? I see people all the time who put on 14 lbs in the first trimester! I'm very happy with your weight gain." So I explained that I take my imaginary pencil and tack on another 15 lbs to whatever they tally up since I started out chunky. He looked me right in the eye and said, "I don't measure that way, and you aren't allowed to either." Nice! (But I still will.) He offered that he thought I was on track for a weight gain somewhere in the mid 20s or 30 lbs at the most. That's better than with Megan when I gained 38 lbs -- but it was also August and I swelled up like a sausage thanks to the heat and pre.eclampsia.

I gathered my things up and went to check out. When the nurse asked if I had my next appointment scheduled, I said no. I knew I had to do it, though, because I've got to drink the Glu.cola stuff for my gestational diabetes test. With Megan, I completely flunked the 1 hour test, and was borderline on the 3 hour test. So I probably shouldn't mess around with it. I made my appt for March 6th -- 2 days after we return from a week in Florida so I hope that I can make a last-ditch effort on vacation to eat reasonably. :-)

Then she said, "Do you want to make your appointment for 2 weeks after that?" I just couldn't believe I'm already approaching the switch to appts every 2 weeks instead of every 4 weeks. In so many ways, this pregnancy is dragging on forever, but in others it's just flying by!

I made a couple more appointments and then asked her to print out the listing of them so I could put them in my calendar. Here's what the paper said:

3/6/08 Dr. MR
3/20/08 Dr. FG
4/4/08 Dr. FG
5/19/08 Dr. MR
5/19/08 Dr. FG

I said, "Wait a minute, this is messed up. One of these appointments has me seeing 2 Doctors at once. This must be wrong." Then she said, "No, that's your surgery appointment." Like a complete moron, I said, "Surgery? What are you talking about?" After looking at me like, well, a complete moron, she said, "Um, aren't you having a c-section?"

I almost fell over the chair behind me. I already knew that May 19th was the date we were going to schedule the c-section (39w1d), but for some reason, my brain didn't even come close to processing it when I saw it on the paper. I simply couldn't believe it was already there -- and in a way it feels so close.

On one hand, I am completely ready. But on the other hand, I am just not ready. As I started to try to explain this concept, my post got insanely long and booooring. So I've broken it up and will save that rambling for a different post later in the week.

In the meantime, I'm working to be happy that things seem to be going along drama-free and that we are (amazingly) getting one step closer each day to our dream of a real, live baby in the house.

Musings on how IF is sort of like cotton candy

2008-02-04T20:02:00.000-08:00

I am forever droning on and on about how IF has permanently changed me. I contend that it has changed me much more than finally being pregnant actually has. That's why I often sort of "forget" that I'm pregnant, and still sneer at big bellies with bitter jealousy.

I intentionally put the word forget in quotes there because I most certainly do not forget I'm pregnant -- too many physical reminders for that to actually happen at this point -- but it seems that my brain is a little slower on the uptake when it comes to finding a way to dissolve the feelings of jealousy, anger and that of being unjustly tortured.

I have, however, come up with at least one way that being pregnant has changed me. I have always organized the entries my bloglines according to Still Trying, Not Trying, or BFP. There are some overlay categories (Braces Bunch, Order of the Plastic Uterus / DC Bloggers, and Other), but the basic categories relate to their status regarding the p word.

Prior to becoming pregnant (or holding on to a pregnancy longer than most people keep a sinus infection) when I would head over to my bloglines, I would always read the Still Trying section first. I still do that, so no big change there. Here's where the change has come into play... Previously, when I would read those blogs, I would be looking for someone in my situation. Sistas who just got their BFN from yet another cycle, Sistas who were enduring miscarriages, etc. It's like I focused on those in misery because, well, I guess I wanted company.

Don't get me wrong, I was happy when someone got a BFP but it was so convoluted and mixed up with jealousy (not to mention that my reaction was tempered by the IF Pain Olympics and the Sliding Scale of Happiness) that it left me feeling conflicted and shitty. It was like an IF train wreck -- I didn't want to look because it made me feel like a pathetic failure, but I had to look because I care about these people and I do genuinely want them to get their hearts desires. Needless to say, it left me feeling sort of like I'd eaten cotton candy... it was yummy and sweet and I knew that it was supposed to make me feel good, but it also left me feeling empty and unfulfilled and disillusioned.

Now, it's different. When I head over to read my bloglines each day, I continue to start with the Still Trying section, but I am desperate to find someone with a BFP. I'm not one of those nutty pregnant chicks who wants everyone to all be pregnant together [insert twittering birds and Disney-esque music here], but I am ashamed to admit that I experience a more pure form of joy (is there such a thing as "unpure" joy?) when other Stirrup Queens get their two lines. It's like I can allow myself true, unabashed happiness for them now that I'm not wallowing in self-loathing, jealousy and other such nastiness.

I'm not entirely sure why I am writing about this topic. Clearly, from the choppy nature of the post and crappy flow of the writing, it's not a sentiment that I've worked through enough in my head. But I guess I'm bringing it up for two reasons:

1) to let my friends who are still in the trenches know that it really is okay to only pretend to be happy for other people's BFPs, or to genuinely be happy but not actually as overjoyed as your half-dozen exclamation points in the comments make you seem like you are

2) to ask other pregnant infertiles if they have experienced this emotional shift as well -- from half-dreading other people's BFPs to desperately seeking them out

Am I crazy? Most definitely. Am I alone in this demented way of thinking? Probably not, but it would be nice if you guys could tell me that I'm not a complete ogre or raging nutjob. Thanking you in advance...

Unspeakable Sadness

2008-02-02T19:49:00.000-08:00

My deepest condolences to Mary Ellen and Steve for losing their three little girls, Sylvia, Claire and Lucy.

I cannot comprehend the emotions they are feeling now. My thoughts and prayers are with them. Please go send yours as well, they will need all the support they can get.

According to the latest update (thank you so much, Serenity), Mary Ellen is doing a bit better so that is encouraging.

It's just so unfair. And so, so sad. I will never understand why things like this happen.

The Intention to Catch Up

2008-02-02T06:12:00.000-08:00

I've been tagged for stuff and have really been slacking lately, I'm so sorry. I'm such a sloth that I never even wrote a post during the Blog You Very Much frenzy. I still intend to do that.

So, sometime this weekend, I intend to write a post that contains:
1) my Blog You Very Much inspiration explanation
2) the 6 non-important things/habits/quirks about myself meme
3) the ... well, crap ... now I can't even remember what the 3rd one was

Geez, I suck.

Inappropriate Juxtaposition

2008-01-28T19:32:00.000-08:00

I have numerous things to cover in my post, and they are horribly at odds with one another in terms of appropriate-ness. But I'll go ahead anyway.

Most importantly, there are some scary things going on in the blogsphere right now. If you haven't already, please go lend some support to:

Alexa -- after losing Amos 2 weeks ago, she is now on hospital bedrest trying to keep his twin, Simone, inside and growing nicely for at least a few more weeks. She's currently being tortured by the dreaded mag sulfate, but -- as always -- is enduring it with incredible wit and humor.

ME -- bedrest, a cerclage, a shortening cervix, funneling and general fear prevail as she fights to keep her 3 little girls on the inside for at least another 6 weeks.

AMS -- there are no words to describe the horror of what they have endured these last three weeks. After delivering Zoe and Lennox at 24 weeks, she lost Lennox 2 days later and then lost Zoe 19 days later. I'm not sure how one is supposed to be able to survive that kind of grief, but I will surely be praying for all of them.

Now for the terribly inappropriate change of topic...

Yesterday was my birthday. We won't talk about how old I actually am (because I am in serious denial), so don't even ask. What I will share is this birthday card I got from a family friend. It doesn't even matter what it says on the inside (something about being a party animal), it's the outside of the card that made me laugh so hard I actually snorted. Hope you enjoy it as well:

I mean seriously -- do you see the 3 separate sets of cleavage? Dang, is that funny.

My last item is that I seem to have "popped" overnight. Many people at work still don't know I'm pregnant because I don't look all that big (let us not forget I was a solid size 10 pre-pregnancy and already routinely sporting elastic waisted pants). I went to bed yesterday still able to wear a few non-maternity items of clothing. Today, no dice. My belly is sticking out farther than my boobs. Now that's really saying something since they have grown from a C cup to a DD cup in the last 2 months. I think they need their own zip code.

Needless to say, I feel like a giant whale. I can't believe how huge my belly is now, and am having equal amounts of trouble comprehending that I'm simply going to get bigger and bigger over the next 16 weeks. Yikes. I guess all things considered, I'm not doing too bad considering this is my 2nd pregnancy (okay, it's my 4th, but only the 2nd one that made it past 9 weeks) but Holy Hannah I am one. big. chick. today.

If it means Spidey is growing and thriving, then I'm all for it. Just 6 more days until the anticipated 24 week mark which means possible viability. I know it's far, far from a guarantee but it will feel mildly comforting knowing that we've at least reached that milestone intact.

Of course I won't discuss that I can only sleep sitting up, have round ligament pains that last upwards of 10 minutes, take 300+ mg of Zantac daily for my outrageous heartburn, and generally feel so worn down that it's as if my entire body has been hollowed out from head to toe and filled with concrete. NOT that I'm complaining, though...

The Order of the Plastic Ute

2008-01-26T21:32:00.000-08:00

Our local group, formerly known as the DC Metro Stirrup Queens, got together tonight. I managed to score one of those plastic models of the uterus from my OB. We needed something to display on the table whenever we get together at restaurants so that new people would be able to find us. Brilliant, yes? We liked it so much that we discussed an official name change. :-)

Anyway, an even dozen of us got together at LJ's house since she's on bedrest following her transfer this morning. The plastic ute sat on the front porch and greeted people as they came up the steps. What a nice, warm welcome! Mel conducted a little photo shoot of the ute, and LJ's husband (Mr. Badger) took a group picture of the 12 of us while LJ held the ute, so as soon as I can get access to either of those pictures, I'll post them.

We ate pizza, chips, dip, brownies, dump cake, and other yummy stuff. We watched portions of a couple of movies, and the end of the Miss America contest. Mostly we talked, laughed, bitched and enjoyed each other's company, understanding, and comfort. A good time was had by all!!

LJ stayed confined to the couch for the most part (minus a trip to the potty and some goodbye hugs). We have everything crossable crossed for the 3 embies that entered your blissful uterus this morning.

Lea Bee relaxed on the couch quite a bit too since it's fairly uncomfortable toting around 50 follicles (retrieval is on Monday).

In and Out of Luck was looking great at almost 18 weeks pregnant.

Shelby also relaxed on the couch in an effort to keep the contractions away.

Liz, a newcomer and a blog-less lurker, retired to the bathroom at one point during the evening to give herself stim shots. We're all rooting for this cycle!

Allison (whose blog I don't know, I'm sorry), also a newcomer is on a break while her hubby works many states away.

Bean was there looking lovely as always.

Mel, the SQ to top all SQs, enjoyed a nice plate of Doritos. :-)

Karen made an appearance, enjoying a few moments away from the triplets.

Sunny was there, exuberant and wonderful as usual. We have everything crossed for her upcoming beta.

Meghan was there, looking great at 7 weeks pregnant and offering some kick-ass brownies.

It simply can't be said enough how wonderful it is to spend time with these lovely women in person. Although IF really, really sucks, at least it afforded me the opportunity to meet such a wonderful, funny group of women. They are definitely the silver lining.

Thanks for coming ladies, it was great to see you all! As for the other 18 or so that couldn't make it, we hope to see you next month at Austin.Grill.

NG '08

2008-01-25T04:30:00.000-08:00

Please go send some love to JJ. Astoundingly, she just got some bad news regarding her recent FET. When will this woman catch a break?!?

Also, go wish some luck to LJ and Lea Bea who should be having their retrievals this weekend. Go, follies, go!

There are many, many other things going on right now with my blog friends, so it's clear one of my long lists where I beg you to drop by and visit them is in order. Look for that coming soon.

In Spidey-related news, I had an OB appt this week. It was blissfully uneventful. I'm up 7 lbs which still isn't too bad for 22 weeks, but I'm feeling like a beached whale nonetheless. They just weighed me, took my BP, and listened to the heartbeat via doppler. We chatted a bit, and then Kevin and I left. The whole thing took about 12 minutes and I didn't even get naked. Ah, how nice.

Now, on to NG '08.

What a week. The thing that's been stressing me out has almost nothing to do with Spidey, but it has been horrible nonetheless. Well call it NannyGate '08.

When Megan was born, we started looking for a nanny. Previously, I worked full time at a hospital here in Baltimore (although I'm not clinical, I work in IT). However, they agreed to let me come back just 3 days a week once my maternity leave was over. I think they were so thrilled that I was coming back at all, that they would have agreed to anything. So, we looked for someone to care for Megan in our home on Mon, Tue and Thu. We interviewed a bunch of crazy people, but eventually found a truly wonderful person named Jessie. She was only 19 at the time but she was calm (I am not), serene (I am not), and had experience caring for babies (which I did not). We hired her, she became like a member of our family, and she stayed for 2 years. She only left because she and the boyfriend that she was living with broke up, so she moved back to PA. We are still close with her. We'll call her Nanny v1.0.

Once Jessie told us she was leaving, we started looking for another person. Again, we interviewed a lot of crazy people, and some that said just silly things. I asked one of them, "What would you do in an emergency?" She responded, "I guess I would call the AM-BA-LANCE." Yes, she referred to that wonderful place with the books as a LIE-BERRY too. Not exactly the person I want teaching my daughter her grammatical skills. Anyway, we finally found another nice girl named Kelly who was 22. Since my best friend is also named Kelly, it got confusing for Megan so we named her Nanny Kelly. NK was going to the community college here in town, and finally graduated in December. On Monday (in 3 days) she starts at a 4 year college here in MD. But she's going full time and living on campus. So we set about to replace her. We'll call NK Nanny v2.0.

At the beginning of December, we started looking for Nanny v3.0. Within the first week, we found a wonderful, amazing girl named Erinn who seemed just wonderful. She was 23 and really had a level head on her shoulders. She worked 1 week with Nanny Kelly and 1 week with me, learning the routine and whatnot. We all had a teary goodbye with NK and were excited for Erinn to officially start full time. Megan LOVES Erin. Well, on the very first day that Erinn was supposed to work by herself, she didn't show up. Didn't call, didn't text, nothing. She was supposed to be here at 7:30am, and we finally heard from her at 9:15am the. next. day. Via text message. With some lame excuse about a stomach ache. Needless to say, my response to her went something like, "Unfortunately, it's not going to work out. I'll mail you a check for the hours that you worked." We'll call her Nanny v3.0.

Thankfully, NK hadn't started school just yet so she was able to come back for a few weeks. We started feverishly looking for another nanny. We found an 18 year old girl named Jennie who, despite a couple of things she did or said during the entire interview process, we agreed to try out for a test period. She agreed to come this past Tuesday from 12pm - 2pm and work with Nanny Kelly. It was a total disaster. She only stayed 1 hour, and the ENTIRE time she was here, she either talked on her cell phone or texted people. At one point, Megan was trying to get her attention, "Jennie, play with me!" and Jennie's response was to talk LOUDER so that her friend on the phone could hear her over Megan's request. What was the topic of such a hot conversation? They discussed some sort of drink that you can buy at G.NC which will flush drugs out of your system. Greeeeeeat. Within 3 hours of leaving my house that day, I called her up and fired her. She was stunned, and had a million excuses, but too bad. We'll call her Nanny v3.1.

I immediately started calling more people. The next day (Wednesday), we interviewed a 23 year old girl named Shannon. We liked her a lot, and she was great when she interacted with Megan. A couple of the questions that we asked her yielded strange answers, but it just seemed that there was more to the story, not necessarily anything sinister. (Like why did she graduate in the top 10% of her class from East.Carolina with a nursing degree in December, yet she's back home looking for a job as a part time nanny?) So we decided to give her a try. Since we were in an obvious time crunch, I asked her to come the next day (yesterday) despite the fact that I hadn't checked her references or run her background check. But yesterday was NK's for-real last day and I wanted NK to spy on Shannon. Shannon agreed, and planned to be here at 10am. We were optimistic, but had been burned too much to get overly-excited. I'm sure you guessed what happened -- at 8:15am yesterday, Shannon texted me to say that she couldn't come that day, and wouldn't be able to take the job after all. I replied and asked if there was any particular reason why, but she didn't respond so I guess I'll never know. We'll call her Nanny v3.2.

So now? We are screwed. NK is gone and we have no one. We do have some short term options, though. Option #1 is that Jessie (Nanny v1.0) is seriously considering taking a 1 month leave of absence from her job in PA (where she only works 1 day a week anyway, it's a long story) to come and help us out. While we figure out if that's going to work, here's option #2: we've lined up NK's Mom (who we also dearly love, as does Megan, and she just adores Megan in return) to come on Mondays. Then my neighbor Lynn will watch Megan on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Then Kevin and I will each take one of the afternoons off (either Tue or Thu) and stay home. It's sort of cobbled together, and will have a serious impact on our work schedules, but NOTHING is more important to us than Megan's safety and happiness. So we will make it work while we continue to search.

There are 3 other women (ranging in age from 24 to 61) who weren't exactly terrible, but I'm hesitant to settle. Kevin is okay with them short-term, but I feel like we've already messed with Megan's head enough. I feel like the divorced Mom who parades around a new boyfriend each week, and it's got to be confusing for Megan. That just breaks my heart.

We interviewed someone last night. When I asked her what her greatest weakness was, she responded with a long explanation that can be summed up with, "crying babies stress me out." I said, "Um, you DO realize we're having a baby in May, right?" She said, "Yeah." Thanks, but no thanks.

Hopefully we will either find someone spectacular soon or we will be able to limp through until my maternity leave starts in May. (Look at me all confident and optimistic that I'm actually going to have a real, live baby in May. Aren't you proud?) Then I can spend that time off looking, yet again, for Nanny v3.x.

Sorry for the long-winded whine. It's just been such a laborious, stressful process that I had to do something therapeutic to get it out of my head. Oh yeah, did I also mention that I just finished tapering off my Zoloft? The perinatologist and OB both recommened that I go off it by the 3rd trimester if I can (based on a brand new study about Zoloft and some other anti-depressants which links their use in the 3rd trimester to fetal persistant hypertension). So I took 1/2 a pill for 2 weeks, then 1/4 pill for about 2 weeks. I've been Zoloft-free for a week, and I can't tell if the recent (albiet brief) crying jags are a result of NannyGate '08 or the lack of Zoloft. Good times, I tell you. These are some good times.

Spidey's Pictorial Debut and more mad ramblings

2008-01-16T17:49:00.000-08:00

First and foremost, thank you to everyone for the kind comments on my last post. I knew it was all a little loopy, and once I got it out of my head and into a post, I felt much better. But then I felt 6,000 times better after reading all of your comments. Thank you for all of the comfort and stroking!

Now for Spidey's photo shoot... Kevin and I bought a scanner for Christmas. It's been hooked up for a couple of weeks, but we finally sat down and made the time to scan in the pictures from our level 2 sonogram.

These are a little over 3 weeks old, they are from Christmas Eve. But they are still some nice pictures so I figured better late than never, right?

Here is a shot of him just relaxing (albiet looking a bit squished). To me, he looks sort of like he just said, "Hey, right on!":

Here is another similar shot, although this is the one that caused Megan to name him "Grinch":

Here is the obligitory shot of the hand:

And last, but not least, one of my favorites. Assuming you're good at reading these type of pictures, you'll be able to make out his legs and feet stretched all the way out (thighs on the left, feet on the right).

Not much else to report. I've been gripped with fear the last few days, but it's unwarranted. This story is sure to bring out the fangs and claws in the best of us... I wore a maternity shirt to work on Monday which prompted a few people to ask, "Um, are you pregnant?" I managed to smile confidently and say, "Yes." (Without all the dramatic explanation of the road paved with shards of glass and our hearts it took to get there. I was proud of myself.)

Anyway, a total moron woman that I work with asked if I was. I said yes. She asked how far along I was, and I answered a little over 21 weeks. She then spent the next 5 minutes -- until I asked her to stop and walked away -- regaling me with the stories of her two miscarriages AT TWENTY TWO WEEKS. I finally said, "Um, Theresa? No offense, but I'm not sure I should be hearing this right now." Seriously? Seriously?

I drove home that day thinking that this was just silly. I mean, what are the chances that my baby would just up and die at 22 weeks. Then I read this post. I was paralyzed. Mostly with grief for Alexa, I can't comprehend how to deal with something like this. But then I became truly terrified for Spidey.

What happened next? You guessed it. Spidey went dormant. Sometime yesterday, he took a big ol' chill pill and stopped rearranging the furniture in there incessantly. I can now go for hours at a stretch without feeling him. I woke up several times in the night last night and didn't feel him once. This morning, nothing. I laid on my stomach, I poked him, I drank apple juice, everything. It took over an hour of this insanity until I felt a flutter. Although that should have been reassuring, it still wasn't enough. Ugh. It was so bad that I dropped Megan off at school 20 minutes late because I was busy tormenting her brother. That's just not right.

All day he has been quiet, but there. It's almost like I've regressed 3 weeks. Even Kevin mentioned that my belly button looked a little more sunken in, and my stomach was much softer than it has been recently. However, I just have to believe that my entire uterus shifted position somewhere along the way (there's still room for it to move around quite a bit at this point), and that's what's caused the big change. Of course as I sit here typing this, he's attending an aerobics class in there or something, he's all over the place.

It's sad that I am actually considerably more physically comfortable than I've been in weeks, and it's a source of stress. I was explaining this to my best friend Kelly, who totally gets it, and she summed it up well. She said, "So you don't feel beaten up, bloated, stretched and miserable? Sorry that you can't enjoy it." It just makes me realize that I haven't traded my IF insanity for pregnancy insanity. I've merely added more crazed behavior on top of the pile I already own.

In other news, the DC Metro Stirrup Queens are getting together in Bethesda for dinner on January 26th. If you live in DC, MD, VA or PA and want to join us, let me know! Or, if you're simply passing through town, please join us. We've now welcomed 4 different bloggers who were visiting DC and it's been just wonderful.

Where Have You Been?

2008-01-11T06:47:00.001-08:00

What in the heck happened? I haven't posted in 12 days. I used to write 2 and 3 posts a day. I refrained from publishing them all at once, for fear of looking like a Blogger addict. I wondered how there would ever be enough days for me to post all the stuff I wanted to chatter on about. I think it was Sunny who mentioned once that she creates posts in her head all day long. I used to do that too. Now, nothing.
I also didn't understand why some of my favorite bloggers sort of dropped off the face of the Earth once they got pregnant. Now I completely get it...
First, I was just too tired. So I didn't post.
Then, I was simply scared all the time. I felt like a giant whiner when I would write rambling posts about how scared I was. Nothing was going wrong, everything was on track, but I was gripped with fear all the time. I got tired of listening to myself fret all day in my head, and I couldn't imagine that anyone else wanted to hear (or read) about it. My posts were boring, and circular, and pointless. What's crazy about this is when other newly-pregnant IFers write fretful posts, I always jump in to comment and tell them it's normal and they will be okay. Why did I think that people would consider me an ungrateful whiner? Because I'm deranged. So I didn't post.
Next, I wasn't scared as much. I passed the point when my sister had her 1st miscarriage. Then I passed the point when we had our 1st miscarriage. Then I passed the point when we had our 2nd miscarriage. Then I passed the point where my friend's Snowflake melted. Then I graduated from the RE. Then I made it through the NT scan. Then I made it into my 2nd trimester. Then I passed the point when my sister had her 2nd miscarriage. Every day was a struggle, filled with milestones fashioned from experiences all around me. But I was starting to feel okay (both physically and emotionally), and that made me feel weird. How do I blog about being happy? How do I move from angst-filled IF chick to the pregnant chick who is supposed to be happy? I still felt so much like the IF chick, but I also felt like a fraud. Would you think I was patronizing when I continued to write posts about how much IF had jacked with my head, heart and life while I sat here being knocked up? Instead of running the risk of offending my dear IF friends still in the trenches, I just didn't post.
Then I made it through the "big" scan at 18 weeks. Another milestone passed that I never took for granted, especially after Ann's experience. I had gone back to being scared. I was feeling the baby move every day, but not all the time. Hours and hours would go by when I would feel nothing, and I would become irrationally convinced that the baby was dead. It never really occurred to me that I might give birth prematurely like so many of my other dear IF friends (especially Carlynn), although that could have happened at any moment. I chose to assume that the baby was just going to up and die one day without letting me know. I went for weeks where I lived in one of two states of being: 1) the baby was moving and I was reassured, and 2) the baby wasn't moving and I was just sure I had lost him. Unfortunately I spent 90% of my time in state #2 and very little in state #1. Again, I felt terrible blogging about it. Do you guys really want to hear about how I'm not feeling my baby move enough? That's just a stupid, stupid, stupid and insensitive thing to moan about to my IF friends. So, you guessed it, I didn't post.
Now, I feel him move all the time. I mean all. the. time. I'm actually a little worried that he's going to be a handful when he comes out because he's going to be so wild. In the past 2 weeks, I can count on one hand the number of times I've stopped and thought, "Hmmmm, I haven't felt him move in a while. Hope he's okay." By the time I get around to thinking that, he's already moved. Thankfully letting me know he's in there. But how do I blog about that?
I have actually written numerous posts about all the shit that is still going wrong. The incessant heartburn, the debilitating migraines, the round ligament pain, the sciatic nerve pain, the throwing up (yes, still, although not nearly as much). I thought that these would be more acceptable topics for an IF blog than the "good" stuff. But then I realized that it was just more whining and who the hell wants to read that?
I wrote even more posts about the great stuff. Posts about how I've managed to only put on 4 pounds and I'm 21 weeks along. (Don't be too impressed, I was 15 pounds overweight to start with.) Posts about how indescribably cute Megan has been since we told her about the baby (which we didn't do until Christmas). Posts about the crazy names she's come up with for the baby -- currently it's "Scuttle Pinata Grinch." No, I'm not kidding. Posts about how I actually managed to buy some boy clothing last week, in an amazing show of acceptance that this might actually happen. Posts about how we bought crib bedding (it was on clearance at Target, I couldn't resist) and I think it's so cute.
Most of those posts got deleted. They were too happy, too fluffy, too in-your-face with the "look at me, I'm pregnant" factor. But that's just stupid. Even when I wasn't pregnant, I still loved to read blog entries from my pregnant IF friends because I was genuinely happy for them. I liked being able to reassure them when they were scared. I liked being able to bask in their glow of happiness when they were enjoying the ride. I simply liked sharing the entire experience with them.
So I'm not sure why I thought none of these topics were acceptable to post about. But I did. I've continued to read my regular blogs every day. I don't comment as much as I used to, because I'm perpetually afraid that people will think I somehow come off as some sort of poser when I empathize with the IF struggle.
The reality is that I still feel more like an infertile than I do like a pregnant person. I guess I knew this all along, and that's why I was so guilty and conflicted. On the outside, I was a pregnant person. But on the inside, I still have all the crazy feelings of an infertile. The only thing that has really changed is I actually can see a light at the end of the tunnel. That makes a big difference -- but I'm also acutely aware that if I let my guard down too much and think things are actually going to work out, it could all be snatched away in the blink of an eye.
See, this is why I didn't post. I don't make any sense. I nearly attacked a pregnant co-worker the other day, berating her for constantly rubbing her belly. I bordered on rude, I'm sure, but I was sick of it. But why? It took me a while to figure it out, but I think I know. I am hyper-sensitive regarding infertility. I assume, at all times, that there is a woman within eyesight or earshot who is struggling with infertility. I assume that this woman is having a horrible day and doesn't want my pregnancy thrown in her face. I couldn't live with myself if she mistook me for one of those smug fertiles who don't understand the gift, the wonder, the miracle that has been given to me. I wouldn't want to cause her one single second of pain because of something I did or said. I am her. I might not even know her, but I know her sadness. She may never even know this, just as I may never even know of her unfulfilled dreams, but I am ever-present in my commitment to be sensitive to fertility struggles.
I know I still make my non-IF friends and co-workers uncomfortable at times. I can't simply accept a compliment or congratulations regarding my pregnancy without spewing the entire history leading up to it. When someone says, "Hey, how great that you are having a baby!" I know I should say, "Yes, isn't it? We're really excited."
Instead I say, "Yes, it was a long, hard road paved with lots of heartache, lots of work, and lots of money. It took us many years, lots of science, a couple of miscarriages, 4 IUIs and 3 IVFs to get here." Wow. That's heavy for a fertile or a man to comprehend. It's like I'm desperate for people to know how much I still consider myself part of the IF community, how much IF has changed me, how grateful I am for where we have gotten.
But at what price? Am I robbing myself of pregnancy happiness? Am I wallowing in my IF grief? In my efforts to make sure I'm not offending you lovely people who read my blog, am I actually driving you away by never posting?
Good GRIEF, can you tell I'm hormonal or what? Anyway, that must be the longest explanation ever regarding where I've been and why I haven't posted much. Please forgive me. Forgive me for posting so infrequently. Forgive me for not commenting as much as I should. Forgive me if I've ever inadvertently come across as flippant, ungrateful or ungenuine. I will do my level best to start posting again regularly, regardless of the topic. Some days, it might be happy stuff. Some days, it might not. I have to keep reminding myself that if you aren't in the mood to read my drivel, you'll simply skip my blog that day. But just know that I'll still be reading yours, and cheering for you!

Thank you. And I do mean YOU.

2007-12-31T06:16:00.000-08:00

I was catching up on my Bloglines reading this morning, and had 6 or so posts to read. Some of them are from people who recently had babies (including a set of quads), and some are from people who are still in the trenches. Coincidentally, all of the posts today included pictures of the blogger and/or their babies. None of this is all that amazing, it's what happened next that shocked me. Megan strolled into the office to see what I was doing. As I clicked through the posts, she greeted each and every person -- including the quads -- by name. I knew that every time I visited a blog when she was around, she loved to look at the pictures and always asked me people's names. It just didn't dawn on me how many people she knows.

That's when it hit me. I don't even know most of these people. We've never met, and we never will. Yet I truly do feel like we are friends, and I genuinely care about them. I would think that it's some romantic version of "caring" about people that you can easily reserve for folks you'll never, ever meet. But since I've had the privledge of meeting over a dozen of the DC Metro ladies, I know that it's the case that I really do like them. There is something special about the IF bond, and I'm not sure I can put it into words. Even if I could, those words would never do justice to the richness that my blog friends have brought to my life.

Two years ago today, I was going in for my first D&C. One year ago today, I was still reeling from 4 pregnancy announcements (including my best friend), and a cancelled IVF cycle. I felt alone. Very, very alone. I have Kevin -- who is amazing and patient and tries so hard that he deserves a medal -- but that's different. I also have a wonderful, wonderful group of IRL friends who have worked hard to educate themselves and figure out the right way to be supportive through our IF journey. But that's different too. My sister has endured 3 IVFs and 2 miscarriages, but she is somewhat bitter about it, and I suspect that she's always thought we should stop this nonsense and move straight to adoption. So, as much as she did actually understand, her support was different as well (plus it was almost 10 years ago that she rode the IVF rollercoaster). The only person I had that truly, truly got what I was going through was Rho. And boy, did we lean on each other hard during our first few cycles. (Especially because her IVF cycle got cancelled last December shortly before mine did.) Without a shadow of a doubt, I would not have made it through this journey without her.

I remember like it was yesterday, when I wrote this in a previous post:

"It's amazing how this whole IF thing fucks with your mind. One minute, I am cool as a cucumber. Totally well-adjusted, cruising through each day with nary a worry in sight. Okay, that's a bit much, I don't know that I'd go quite that far. But suffice it to say that at those times, I'm not a ball of seething anger mixed with raw nerves topped with painful depression. Then, there are the other times. There are the bad days when I can't as much as take a single breath without lamenting my fertility woes, the wasted 4+ years trying to make babies, the angst-filled pregnancies that killed my babies, the hundreds of shots, the procedures, yada yada yada. More than anything, I get angry. But then the guilt (about the anger) takes over, and then I get sad, then I get gloomy, then . . . well, you know the drill.

Recently, I had a particularly happy spell. Two of my co-workers had babies (who have children under 2 at home already), my neighbor had a baby, my best friend is enormously pregnant, and there are what seems about 65 million IF bloggers who have managed to get knocked up in the past couple of months. Miraculously, I handled all of this well. I think I actually managed to half-smile at a couple of pregnant people in the mall recently.

Then, something happened. I don't know what it is. I think that part of it is the fact that I never really mourned the failure of our recent IVF. I was angry and shocked, but only cried twice (including that episode in Dr. Chat's office). For the past 2 days, I've been slipping back into my old, sad ways. Ugh. Luckily I've got loads of experience with this particular situation, so I know it's fleeting and will correct itself without any major event. Which is a good thing. But it still sucks. I'm sad, I'm angry, I'm feeling unfairly picked on, I'm confused, and mostly I'm just tired.

Tired of all of it. Tired of the waiting, tired of the failures, tired of the trying, tired of the drugs, tired of the bloodletting, tired of the dildocam, tired of the broken dreams, tired of pretending like I'm okay, tired of pretending like I've got hope, tired of actually having hope, tired of being jealous, tired of being angry at pregnant people. So damn tired. Mostly tired of trying. It feels like there is no end in sight.

This is ridiculous, there is an end in sight. We have a very clear game plan, and I'm 99% certain we'll have a child by the end of it (via donor eggs or adoption or kidnapping ... totally joking about that last one). It's just that when you're down in the pit, there isn't a lot of light and that makes the shadows under the bed really look like monsters. But they aren't monsters, they are dirty socks. And most of the time, dirty socks aren't that scary. Just dirty, and sometimes smelly.

I just want my life to begin again. It feels like I've been holding my breath for half a decade. I'm waaaaay beyond manipulating my plans around the possibility of being pregnant, that's not what I'm talking about. I think I'm just so very ready to find my old self again, to check the box on the family building nonsense, to begin LIVING.

Again, this is ridiculous. I am living. I have a great life. Shit, I'm not even sure what it is I'm trying to say here. I do know that just putting it down in print is already making me feel better. It's cathartic, really, sort of cleansing."

This year is different. This December 31st, I'm not checking in for another D&C. This year, I'm not crying that yet another year has passed with nothing to show for it except a big, fat helping of debt and sadness. This year, I have all of you.

It's amazing that after just 7 months of blogging (although I've been reading much longer), and almost 100 posts, I feel like I have known some of you for such a long, long time. I suppose this is what it feels like to have a support group. Whatever it is, I love it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not so dense that I don't realize this December 31st is also quite different because I've got Spidey on the way. But I genuinely feel that even if we hadn't been blessed with our little miracle (hey, the 7th time's the charm, right?), I would still be in a better place. Thanks to the magic of blogging and the support of our community.

I already wrote a gushy post about how much I love you guys, so I don't need to go into it all again. Just know that as I am counting my blessings, the IF blogging community -- and specifically every one of you who have ever showed me kindness or support or empathy -- are near the very top of my list. Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you.

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

2007-12-25T05:08:00.000-08:00

Our "big" scan yesterday was blissfully uneventful. What a wonderful Christmas present!

As previously predicted, it does, in fact appear to be a boy. Once we get our scanner (joint Christmas present for/from me and Kevin) and get it hooked up, I'll scan in the pictures. (Not pictures of his family jewels, we didn't ask for any of them, just pictures of his face, hands, legs, etc.) The 3D ones are neato, even if Spidey does look quite alien-like.

Everything went well. All the organs are accounted for, measuring correctly, and in the appropriate place. We saw the 3rd joint on the pinky finger, saw the hands opening and closing, and saw a gorgeous 4 chamber heart. All fantastic signs that Spidey probably does not have Down.Syndrome. So we'll keep our fingers crossed.

Yesterday I was 18w1d and Spidey's measurements averaged out to 18w0d. All of the measurements (femur, humerus, head circumference, etc.) were between 17w6d and 18w1d. I think that partially it's because Spidey is cooperating and growing on track, but I also think that the tech who did the initial scan was great at her job. She took a lot of time to look at everything -- again and again and again -- and provided an endless running commentary explaining what she was looking at, and what she was looking for. We really appreciated that!

The biggest shock of the day was that the Perinatologist recommended that we don't do the AFP quad screen. We were totally set and prepared to get it done, but he basically talked us out of it. He spent a long time explaining exactly what it tests for, and then reviewed all of the results we have thus far (extensive anatomical scan, NT scan, NT bloodwork, etc.) and said that we wouldn't be testing for anything else we haven't already tested for. I have NEVER EVER been the one who was offered the "easy" road. I have never been the one who was told she didn't need extensive, exhaustive, invasive testing. We completely trust this Doctor, so we decided to take his advice. I was giddy at the prospect of avoiding an agonizing wait for yet more test results -- especially for a test that often gives false positive. So that too was a great early Christmas present.

As of today, I will start wearing maternity clothes full time. Thank goodness because squeezing my big self into my old clothes was getting pretty . . . um . . . comical. I also promised to get excited and attempt to be optimistic about this pregnancy. I truly will do my best. Luckily I feel him move every day, dozens of times a day, so that's reassuring. We told Megan that she is going to be a big sister and she was excited. She initially refused to accept that it was going to be a little brother, insisting that she would only like a sister. Eventually she came around and decided that having a brother would be okay -- only if we agreed to name him Scuttle. (For those of you who have the fortune to be blissfully unaware of the excruciating details of Disney movies, Scuttle is a seagull played by Buddy.Hackett in The.Little.Mermaid.) We avoided the discussion and decided to tackle that one later.

Christmas Day has been good so far. It's only 8:26am but we've already been up for over 2 hours, opened all the presents, and eaten breakfast. At the moment, Megan is running around in a Barbie wedding dress, wearing frog rain boots, and sporting 2 small baby dolls shoved down the front of her dress. I simply couldn't be more proud. :-) Best of all is that she's desperately lobbying for us to let her go outside so that she can dig in the yard for worms. She's trying to negotiate by asking for "just 2 worms" but we're not budging. She seriously is a trip, when she's not in the throes of a temper tantrum, screaming her head off acting like a raving lunatic, she is one of the funniest people I've ever known. If I can get the camera out of Kevin's grip, I'll upload a picture of her in the wedding/frog getup for you guys to enjoy.

Here they are:

I've been praying for all of my blogland friends to get what their hearts desire. Especially to my friend who is in the 2ww after secret IVF #2, I hope you get amazing news very soon. Thank you also to all of the Braces Bunch gals who have sent cards. I love them! I have all of yours done, addressed, and labeled, but buried them under wrapping paper until I discovered them around midnight last night. Yikes! So they will go out tomorrow.

I hope you have a wonderful holiday season.

Do you love your scanner?

2007-12-13T04:39:00.000-08:00

For Christmas, Kevin and I have decided to give each other a scanner. It will primarly be used for scanning in pictures (particularly old pictures, far pre-dating digital cameras) and other random pieces of paper such as recipes and whatnot.

Do you have a scanner that you use for pictures? Do you love it? Do you hate it? Please give me any feedback you've got so I know where to start my search.

Thanks!